


FAILURE

by Tealbull81



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Dreamworks Trolls, F/M, Human AU, Trolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2018-12-10 04:39:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 54,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11684256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tealbull81/pseuds/Tealbull81
Summary: A difficult life has made Branch withdrawn and angry, especially since he was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Now he has to endure exhausting and painful therapy while he waits for a transplant that may never come.  Hope for his future is diminishing fast, leaving Branch's world sad and gray. Can a bubbly pink-haired nurse show him how beautiful the world can still be before he looses himself to the darkness? Trolls/Human AU.





	1. Things Are Going To Be Different

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theonlymoosewhoeatssalad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonlymoosewhoeatssalad/gifts), [bubb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubb/gifts), [Secretsivekept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secretsivekept/gifts), [dragonNMR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonNMR/gifts).



> Anger issues, depression, sadness, and comfort. There are suicidal thoughts and pretty moments. Be prepared for a lot of dialog, adult language, and fluff. Shout-out to Bubb who got me hooked on AU Trolls fanfic in the first place, Secretsivekept and DragonNRM for finishing Flatline and leaving my time vulnerable to latch on to other obsessions, and to theonlymoosewhoeatssalad for planting the damn seed in my head to begin with. Don't like this story? Blame them. But I still hope you enjoy.  
> I do not own Trolls characters, they belong to Dreamworks.

The boy sat in the bed, his toes scratching against the white, starchy sheets. He was quiet, withdrawn into his mind and numb to pulsing beep of the monitor overhead. His sky blue eyes squinted. Concentrating intently on the rolodex running through in his mind.--flashing bursts of new information that had been thrown at him over the last few days.

After a few moments of hesitation, he lifted his fingers and gingerly touched the short plastic lines dangling from his chest under the green hospital gown. They adjusted slightly to the tactile pressure and he winced as the twinge shot up through his muscle.

_Still tender._

With a slow breath, he released the twin lumens and rubbed his palm roughly against his cheek.

_This is happening. What the hell am I going to do?_

There were things. Things he wanted to do. He had no fucking clue what these things were, or if he had any ACTUAL intention of doing them. But they were out there, and now, just the possibility of making them happen was gone.

Things were going to be different.

They boy lifted his eyes when a soft knock rapped on the door. His last breath hitched in his throat as it opened. A large, round man with silver hair entered. He wore a long, white coat that was half a size too small and flicked through a chart as he walked.

“Good morning, young man!” he boomed, still not looking up from the rustling papers. “I'm Doctor Frank Biggie, and I'm filling in today for Doctor Tan.”

The man in the white coat scanned a few more pages before smiling and turning his full attention to the dark-haired boy in the bed.

“And how are you feeling today Mr.-uh...” he scrambled and paged back through the chart. “Mmmiiiissstterrr.... Bray...n....k?”

“Branch. It's Branch.”

Dr. Biggie smiled warmly.

“How about I just call you Ra-”

“How about you don't.” The boy snapped curtly. “Branch is fine.”

The doctor nodded. He glanced again at the chart in his hand before tucking it under his fluffy arm.

“I see you have been battling your disease for quite some time now. You were diagnosed with polycistic kidney disease...7 years ago? Is that right? So you have probably known this was coming for a while."

Branch frowned and stared silently at the hideous gray-speckled floor tiles. Dr. Biggie tilted his head and eyed the boy with concern.

“Did Dr. Tan talk to you about what to expect?” he inquired.

Branch said nothing, but met the doctor's eyes and nodded.

“You will be starting your treatments tomorrow. You should know the hemodialysis process is quite stressful on your body, so it's normal to feel exhausted in the hours or even days following. Be sure to arrive at the facility an hour early to fill out paperwork...Oh! And the room is usually quite chilly so remember to bring a blanket and eat before you arrive.”

Branch dropped his gaze to his lap, and nodded again.

Dr. Biggie frowned thoughtfully as his experienced eyes analyzed the boy. He clasped his hands together and sighed.

“Things aren't as bad as they seem right now, young man,” he encouraged softly. “Try to keep your hopes up, yes?”

Branch still said nothing, but his lips were pulled tight and his jaw tensed.

“I will see you in a week for your appointment but, until then, good luck to you.”

The doctor turned and walked back out of the room as quickly as he had entered and the hospital door clicked shut. Branch's shoulders sank and he cast his eyes about his room.

Papers were stacked precariously on the bedside table. There were sheets that outlined “Procedure Risk” and “Patient Rights”. There were consent forms and informative hand-outs alerting to “What You Need to Know”. Branch glared at the clutter and the heat his face bubbled. With a bolt of energy he struck his foot against the table.

BANG!.

It flew into the wall and papers fluttered through the air until they lay like scattered leaves on the ground. His world looked as gray as those fucking ugly floor tiles.

Kidney failure.

_Fuck._

Ya, things were going to be different.


	2. Enter Blue and Pink

Stitches peaked out from the incision on his arm and the tissue was swollen and tight under his skin. It had been a month since Branch started his treatments, and he still wasn't accustomed to the exhaustion that drained him day after day. He sat in his dialysis chair scratching at the healing area as watched the chaos around him. The room was a bustle with activity as new patients for the shift arrived, assessments were done, and treatments began. Twenty minutes he had waited, but HIS treatment had yet to start.

“What the hell is taking so long?! I got shit to do!” he hollered across the room toward the group of staff who appeared to be arguing behind the desk.

After a moment, a short, but burly girl made her way out from behind the nurses station and marched her way toward Branch. She stopped short (no pun intended) directly in front of him. Her eyes were hard. Branch caught a glimpse of a blue dyed streak weaving through her braid which was tied neatly at the end with a light pink bow. The nurse folded her arms across her chest as her intense blue orbs scanned him over.

“I hear you are a bit of an asshole.”

Branch frowned. “Excuse me?”

The girl's mouth curled. “You have gone through three techs and two nurses since you've been here, and all of them have refused to work with you again. Is it true you even made Satin cry last week?”

“She was incompetent,” he grumbled.

The girl's back stiffened as she puffed. “Well, buckle up, Buttercup, because you're stuck with me now.”

The nurse grabbed his arm-nearly pulling the shoulder out of socket and tightly bound the blood pressure cuff around it..

“Ouch!” Branch winced. “Damn, you're strong!”

“And just think,” an evil sneer pulling at her lips as she leaned close. “In 2 weeks, when your graft is ready to cannulate,” she gestured toward his fresh surgical site. “I'm going to be doing the sticking.”

Branch's jaw dropped searching for a glint of sarcasm. There was none.

“So you had better work on curbing your attitude by then.” The nurse straightened her back and a sweet smile formed across her face. “I'm Cathy, by the way. And I'm your new nurse.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cathy handed him a face mask and Branch hooked it around his ears as the nurse prepared the central line in his chest for treatment. It had been a week and a half since they had been partnered up and the two had quickly come to an understanding in their routine. Cathy did her job and Branch kept his fucking mouth shut.

“Smidge! Hey Smidge!”

Branch's ear twitched.

“We need a double check at station 6!”

“Yes, alright! I'll be there in a minute! I'm putting a patient on!” Cathy called back.

The boy's interest was perked.

“Smidge?”

“Ya. Well, my friends call me Smidge,” she mumbled.

Snatching the opportunity, Branch smirked.

“So, can I call you Nurse Smidge?” he teased.

Cathy turned cold eyes to meet his. “I said my friends.”

Branch chuckled. But after a few moments, the continued icy glare smacked the smirk off his face. Branch averted his eyes and swallowed nervously.

A bright flash of color caught his attention. Branch raised his eyes and peered across the room.

_What. The. Hell._

A short, but curvy girl was in his view. She was bright eyed, bushy tailed, and adorned in florescent pink scrubs that matched her hair. She didn't even walk normal. She....bounced. She actually bounced as she moved over the floor. Her bubblegum locks followed suit with each step.

“Hey Cathy, “ Branch flicked his chin toward the new character who was smiling, and chatting with patients on the other side of the unit. “You hire Muppets now?”

“Hmm?” Cathy took the stethoscope out of her ears and glanced back over her shoulder. “Oh ya, ” she chuckled. “She's new.”

Branch rolled his eyes. “I can see that.”

Cathy snorted.

“You want me to introduce you?”

“Funny.” he deadpanned.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pink-haired girl giggled loudly and often. Branch couldn't imagine what could be so damn funny all the time.

It was nearing the end of the run and the staff were busy preparing for take off and the start of a new shift. He spied her. The girl was moving from pod to pod, emptying the trash bins. She was getting closer. Now closer. She walked into Branch's pod with a fist full of replacement bags. Making her way down the line, she was soon at the wall and only three feet away from him. The sweet scent of strawberries was in the air. She crouched down and started to tie off the overflowing container. The new position pulled at the posterior hem of her scrub pants.

Branch wasn't purposefully looking, but he was observant by nature. A hint of purple caught his attention and he looked closer.

_What the hell is that?_

Branch stretched himself a little further out of his chair and angled his neck. He squinted at the design.

_Are those...are those unicorns?? She has fucking unicorns on her underwear?! Where the hell does a girl get unicorn underwear in adult sizes? She prob-_

“What are you doing?”

“FUCK!!” Branch nearly fell out of his chair when he jumped.

With his concentration focused elsewhere, Branch hadn't heard Cathy approach from the other side. The girl flickered her eyes between Branch and Cathy, oblivious to the reason for the boy's outburst.

Branch froze. The silence clawed at his insides as both the girls stared at him. Branch turned his head to avoid Cathy's eyes and shrunk into his chair. His face was on fire and the color reflected it.

Cathy chuckled and waved it off to the girl.

“It's nothing, Poppy. Don't worry about it.”

_Poppy. Her name is Poppy._

With her co-worker's reassurance, the concern on her the girl's face melted away. Poppy turned her gaze to Branch. She had large, sparkly amber eyes--laced with long, dark lashes, and an ivory powder finish over her skin. Then, she smiled.

_Oh._

It spanned her entire face and dimples popped deep on either side. Shiny pink gloss glistened on her lips and gold flecks danced in her eyes. Silver glitter sparkled on her rosy cheeks. Of course she has glitter on her cheeks. She probably shoots glitter out her ass. Poppy finished tying the red bag and moved on with her duties. Branch eyed her as she walked away.

“Muppet...” he grumbled as he pulled a blue notebook from his backpack and began to write.


	3. Let's Get This Over With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy steps up. Did you know Branch is afraid of needles? You know now. So inconvenient. A little longer chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I so thrilled with the positive feedback that is coming across. I'm just happy people are enjoying themselves. :) I am also truly honored that you all took the time to read and comment on this story so far. Fasten your seat belt! The road is gonna get a little bumpy.

“Good morning Mr. Branch, I have great news! It's been two weeks and the doctor has given the okay to start using your graft.”

Cathy appeared far too excited for Branch's peace of mind.

Cathy sat on her stool and began pulling out long strips of tape--lining them up along the edge of the table. After assessing the site to verify the graft's position, she carefully rubbed the length of his arm with alcohol swabs. But when Cathy ripped open the edge of the needle packet, Branch's jaw hit the floor.

“Fuckin' Shit! It's like the inkwell of a pen!”

“That it is! 15 gage. Aren't you glad you've stayed on my good side?” Cathy winked. She angled the needle, and advanced it toward Branch's skin.

“I-I don't think it's going to fit! Wait-wait-WAIT! Can't you numb it or some shit?!” He screeched.

“Well...we have Lidocaine,” she mused. “But it burns like holy hell fire when it's injected under the skin and it isn't completely effective against these monsters. Best to just do it quick and get it over with.”

Branch didn't have time react. In one, swift motion, Cathy twisted her wrist and the needle pushed through.

“MOTHER FUCKER!”

“Pansy...” Cathy muttered. She secured the needle with a strip of tape.

Branch bit his trembling lip and tears sprouted in the corners of his eyes.

_Fuck you! That hurt!_

It took two more staff members to hold Branch down so he wouldn't hurt himself when the second needle went in. After a few more tears and a string of swear words, Branch's treatment was initiated without further issue.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another two weeks had passed and Branch was not acclimating to his tri-weekly stabbings. He gritted his teeth every time and Cathy had to restrain his arm to prevent him from pulling away on instinct. There other patients had started to make bets among themselves about what swear word would explode out of the boy today. Poppy looked up to see Cathy with her knee on his limb as Branch squirmed and whined.

“I swear, Cathy! I think--I think I'm gonna spew!  I can't even-Fucking Hell!"

_Classic._

"Goddamn Dinkle Shit!”

_That's a new one._

Poppy tried to subdue her smile as she smoothly canulated her patient.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Poppy was over half way through her training a felt relief that the end was finally closer than the beginning. She ruffled through her training binder and Cathy leaned over her shoulder.

“How are you coming with your sticks, Poppy?”

The girl swelled with pride.

“I've completed fifteen fistulas and had no complications!”

“That's great--I'm so proud of you! And what about your grafts?”

Poppy's grin slightly faltered. “Well, not so good. I'm having trouble finding grafts to work on.”

“Grafts...grafts...”Cathy repeated to herself as she scanned to unit. “Ah, Mr. Branch has a graft. You're welcome to take a run at him if you're up to the challenge.”

Poppy glanced at the boy with messy-hair, snuggling into his seat in preparation for his treatment. He tried to pull up his table, but-

“Son-of-a-bitch!” he screamed whipping his pinched finger back and forth through the air. When that didn't suffice, he stuffed the digit in his mouth to suck the sting away. Poppy grinned.

“Ya. Ya-let's try it.”

Branch only noticed the approaching pair when they were feet away. He quickly pulled the finger from his mouth and eyed them with suspicion.

“Branch, you remember Nurse Poppy?”

Branch started to flush but shook it off.

“Sure-- what about her?”

Cathy nudged Poppy's arm and gave her an encouraging nod. Poppy stepped closer as Cathy turned her back and walked away.

“H-hey. I'm Poppy”

“I know.”

“Mr Branch,” she started, but her voice squeaked. Poppy quickly coughed into her increasingly sweaty fist and went for a second attempt.

“Mr. Branch, I'm in the middle of my training, and I wanted to know...well, I wanted to ask you...your permission...to cannulate your graft for treatment today?”

_Nailed it!_

“You're not sticking me.”

The released a awkward giggle that helped to calm her nerves.

“Please? I'll be real gentle, I promise.” Poppy swallowed, then whipped out her most adorable smile--hoping that would improve her chances.

“You want to stick me with giant fucking needles? For PRACTICE?!”

“Of course silly! How do you think we learn?”

“Don't call me “silly,” he growled. “They tell me grafts are trickier than fistulas. Have you ever even done one before?”

Poppy pulled back and bit the corner of her lip. “Ummm....well....sure...kinda.”

Branch squinted into her eyes. “What do you mean “kinda”?”

“We have these rubber mannequin arms...” as she pointed behind her. “…in the back...that we practice on...”

“Ooohhh!” Branch his face falsely expressing keen interest. “Well, in that case-- HELL NO!”

_Okay, honesty might have not been the best way to win him over._

“Look Ra—I mean—Branch. You have the only graft on this shift and I need to stick 10 of 'um before I can be signed off. Won't you please help me out?”

Branch met her face.

The girl tilted her head, angled her eyebrows upward, and pouted her lower lip. Warm bubbles rippled through the boy's veins. He ignored it.

“Poppy, is it? You can take your sad eyes and shove it. Your inexperience is not my problem so go "practice” on somebody else.” Branch rolled over in his chair, turning his back to the girl and closed his eyes.

Poppy stared as if he were a German dictionary and she only took Spanish in high school. Branch could feel her eyes on him and he hated the feeling.

In a flash, Poppy broke back into a smile. “Okey dokey!” She piped. “Well, while you wait to start your treatment, how about we do my patient info practice sheet?”

“No.” he retorted, still turned from her view.

“Please?” Poppy pleaded as her fingers dove into her pocket and retrieved a folded sheet. “

No.”

“Pretty please with rainbow sprinkles?”

“Clear out, Cotton Candy.”

“Coooome'oooon!!”she wined, “It's just a few short questions.”

“Beat it, Bubblegum.”

Poppy pulled over the stool and plopped her bottom down. Branch rolled over in time to see her initiated a few bum wiggles into the seat to get comfy.

She's going nowhere.

“Uh...could you leave? I'm not in the mood for this shit.”

“Tell you what, Branch—if you do this with me, I will sing for you,” she offered

 _Her negotiation skills suck_.

“No. You won't.”

“Sure I will! I'm a great singer!”

“Let me rephrase—I. DON'T. WANT. YOU. TO. SING. Besides, they don't allow singing in here.”

"Oh, phhtt!. Sure they do!" she grinned.

“It's unprofessional.”

“It's free expression.”

“So is taking a shit on the floor.”

“It's comforting to my patients.”

“It's annoying to the patients.”

“So is having hissy-fitty tantrums during treatment like a spoiled toddler, Mr. Branch.”

Branch's mouth snapped closed and he scowled. Poppy flicked a satisfied grin and turned her attention to the paper in her grasp.

“Ok, let's see...Name?”

Branch glowered.

“Naaaaaaaammmme?”

The boy sighed. “Branch.”

“Full name?”

“Fucking Branch.”

“Poppy glared and clicked her tongue against her cheek, then returned her focus to the sheet.

“Age?”

Branch rolled his eyes.

“Isn't that in my chart?” he grumbled.

“How long have you been on dialysis?”

“Too long. I'm sure that's in my chart too.”

“How much do you void?”

Branch was caught off guard.

“W-what?”

“Do. You. Still. Pee?”

“T-that's none of your damn business, Poppy!”

“Question's right here on the list...” She turned the paper and pointed to the line.

“Well, I'm not going to answer.”

“So sensitive,” she muttered.

“Ok then, what is your support system?"

“My what?”

“Support system. Family or friends that you can go to if you need help.”

Branch vaguely recalled the social worker inquiring the same thing when he first arrived to the facility. His eyebrows lowered.

“I'm sure that's in my chart too,” he growled.

“Ok., ok. Moving on. Let me see...” The girl popped her lips together as her finger scanned down the sheet. “You're not a girl, so we can skip the part about menstruation...” she mumbled.

Branch's faced squished with disgust.

“Ah, here. Has being on dialysis affected your sexual function?”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?”

“Don't over-react, Branch! It's part of the questionnaire. Not like I'm trying to embarrass you...”

“No way—Screw this! I'm done!” Branch crossed him arms forcefully and looked away.

_I guess we'll come back to that one_

“Hmmm...do you have any complaints or concerns about your dialysis treatments?”

At that question, Branch snapped his head toward Poppy and glared. His boiling agitation stood his neck hair on end.

“Ya., I do!” He snarled. “All I'm trying to do is get through my day in peace. I spend most my nights worrying about what other nightmare is going to crash into my life because, at this point, they seem to happening at regular intervals! It's a goddamn conspiracy! I'm too exhausted to hold down a job, too tired to do my homework, I can't function within 100 feet of my bed! I don't even-”

“You should eat more protein.”

“I-w-what?” He stuttered.

“You're anemic. You should eat more protein. Fish, lean chicken, steak, eggs...”

Branch stared slacked-jawed.

“It is also a more sustaining form of energy compared to sugar or caffeine—though I do love my sugar. And my caffeine. I love my morning cup to taste like coffee flavored sugar milk-YUM! Oh- and cookies! I love cookies! I need to have at least one every—”

“My POINT is,” he interrupted. “It takes every bit of energy I have to drag myself across town 3 days a week to do dialysis. Yet, ironically, the ONLY time that I am able to sleep is during these DAMN TREATMENTS! But, even here, while I am TRYING to rest, an annoying, inexperienced, flamingo-haired prancing Muppet can find nothing better to do that fuck that up for me too!” Lightning flashed in his eyes. “Look it up in my fucking chart and LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!” He spat.

It was silent. Poppy and Branch stared at each other. So did staff members and patients. The whole room was quiet other than the humming machines and their whirling pumps. Anger brewed in Branch as he glared down those wide, innocent orbs.

Poppy's expression shifted. The corners of her lips turned up and the edges of her eyes crinkled.

“Oh! Oh Gosh! That's SO SWEET! I-I LOVE IT!”

The malice in his expression dropped like a sack full of cow shit. _Splat_.

 _Wait-what? No_.

Poppy whipped around on her stool.

“Smidge! Hey, Smidge! Call me “Muppet” from now on, okay?!” She popped off her seat and bounced her way back toward the nursing station. Poppy swung her head over her shoulder.

“Oh! And, Branch? Thanks for giving me permission to look the info up in your chart!” she sang.

The boy was stunned silent as he watched her skip away. Smidge smiled from her chair behind the desk.

After a minute, Branch managed to blink.

_The hell just happened?!_

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

The paper lay half completed on the desk. Poppy's fingers delicately moved over the printing as she read through the patient history. When she stopped, her digits held tight to the chart tab labeled “Case Manager Notes”.

_Parents died—age 2. Last living relative murdered during home invasion—age 6, child present. Exhibits debilitating guilt and depression related to an unrealistic sense of responsibility over the tragic fates of his family. Abuse allegations while in foster care. Juvenile delinquency. Deep seeded anger issues and possible suicidal idealization. A marked disobedience toward authority. Refuses psychological or pharmacological therapy options at this time. Recommend continued observation and re-evaluate in 3 months._

Poppy slowly turned her eyes to to the boy in the corner. His unruly black strands fell in his face as he feverishly scribbled in his notebook. Small smiles and silently mouthed words intermittently ghosted across his face. His tongue flicked out the corner of his lips as he concentrated. Suddenly, Branch stopped writing and his eyes glazed over as if waiting for his thought to come. He looked at Poppy. Their eyes locked and the two kids were mutually stunned. Neither were expecting their glance to coincide with the other's at that moment. Branch blushed. So did Poppy. The awkward second was overwhelming and Poppy turned her attention back to her paper. Branch did the same.


	4. It's a Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get complicated. Time for a little pain.

Branch waited nervously in the small room. Advertising posters promoting the latest medications and medical procedures plastered the white walls. He slouched deeper into the chair, shifting the pressure of the hard seat off his ass. Branch wondered how long he had been waiting. He had left his phone in the car and they never have a clock in these damn waiting rooms.

With a familiar rap on the door, the doctor entered. Branch pushes to his feet, but could immediately see from Dr. Biggie's face that there was something off.

“Hello my boy, how have you been?” He asked with a tired grin. The doctor reached out his arm. Branch eyed the doctor's extended limb then cautiously brought his own forward and accepted the handshake.

“Please, have a seat.” Branch settled back into his chair, while the white-coated man relaxed against the counter top. Dr. Biggie opened the chart and flipped back and forth between the pages as if he was double checking his information. When he was done, he closed the chart and set it on the shelf beside him. He gently clasped his hands together, resting them in his lap.

“We received the results of your labs related to your transplant screening. I'm not sure if you knew, but you have type O blood.”

“Ya, I knew that.” Branch responded, trying to move the conversation along though unsure of why this information was significant.

“O blood isn't uncommon, but it does drastically limit the number of candidates that could donate to you.”

“Okay...”

“Another thing that we discovered, is that you also have a an unusually high variety of antibodies. I won't go into detail, but you have two types in particular that are comparatively rare to the general population.”

Branch nodded silently his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. 

“And...what does that mean for me?” he frowned. Dr. Biggie licked the corner of his mouth and he stared hard into the boy's face as a way to better clarify the seriousness of the situation.

“The antibodies in your blood attack non-self organisms. It is how your body protects it's self against invading factors. To match a donor kidney to a recipient, not only does the blood type have to match, but so do certain antibodies as well. The better the match, the less likely the person's body is to attack the donated organ.”

Branch was quiet. A knot was starting to tighten in his stomach and his gastric acids churned into throat. He had a feeling he knew where this was headed.

“Finding a compatible kidney for you, Branch, will be...difficult.” Dr. Biggie couldn't help but wince as he said the last words.

“How difficult are we talking?” The boy's eyebrows lifted, still hoping to hear some good news.

“With you having no living blood relations, it is unlikely. I'm sorry.”

Branch's voice was quickly deserting him as a increasing pressure pushed against his chest

“S-So, what do I do?” He squeaked.

Dr. Biggie smiled reassuringly at the scared boy in front of him.

“I think you should continue to do your treatments and keep your hopes up. We will keep looking.”

Branch swallowed. His head pounding.

“How long do I have?” he whispered. 

The doctor frowned, concerned.

"It's different for ever-”

“How. Long.”

Dr. Biggie exhaled thoughtfully.

“Considering you don't develop any other serious conditions? You could expect to live another 10 to 20 years. Maybe more, maybe less. That is, if you continue your treatments and diet. And if you maintain your low fluid gains.”

Branch nodded soundly as he processed the knowledge.

“And... if I don't?”

“Branch, I don't think-”

Branch glared into the doctor's soft eyes, but he couldn't hide the fear and sadness from reflecting along with the anger. He was lost and needed answers.

Dr. Biggie shook his head--subtly to shake away his judgments. 

“Depending how strong your heart is..." The doctor cleared his throat, and awkwardly repositioning himself on the chair--pity welling like overcast in his eyes, "a non-compliant lifestyle could shorten that to 5 or 8 years.”

“And...” Branch's voice cracked. “And if I stopped dialysis?”

“I don't recommend that path, Branch.”

The corners of Branch's lips pulled downward beyond his control, but his eyes indicated he was still waiting for an answer.

“If you stopped dialysis?"  Dr. Biggie mused, tapping his chin. "Maybe a month. Probably less.”

Branch nodded. More to himself than the doctor.

“Branch, please.” The gentle doctor reached out and placed his large strong hand on the boy's shoulder. “This isn't over.  MANY people live full, rich lives while on dialysis.”

Branch turned his face and shrugged the caring hand away-- trying to keep the tears from spilling over.

“I should probably...” Branch tried to inhale as his chest trembled--staggering the flow of air. “......I'm gonna go. Thanks, um, thanks Doc.” 

"If you need anything...don't hesitate to call me." Biggie's voice was strong and steady--like a anchor trying to keep this boy from blowing away into the darkness.  "And Branch?”

Branch' shattered blue eyes trailed back.

“Don't make any rash decisions." He warned with gentle promise. "There is always hope.”

The boy's lips trembled.

“Ya. Okay. Uh...thanks.”

Branch walked down the hall. His back slouched and his head hung low. Hard fists shaking in his jean pockets and the hot tears were breaking free. He had some thinking to do.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Morning, Sunshine, I'm back,” sang a happy voice.

“I can see that,” Branch responded, trying to sound disinterested.

“How can you see? Your eyes are still closed.”

“You aren't the quiet type. I can hear you giggling a mile away.”

Poppy was quiet.

“You write poetry?”

“What?!”

In a surge of adrenaline., Branch was fully awake and popped up from his chair. After a sleepless night, he had dozed off with his notebook left wide open on chairside table!

_Fuck!_

He slammed the book closed and tucked it down the side of his chair.

“Sorry!” Poppy shrugged with a grin. “It was hard to miss!”

Branch was blazing red and huffing.

“What do you want, Poppy?” he snapped

“It's my last day of training. Congrats to me! Ya, anyway. I was thinking...I've stuck eight grafts so far, so you won't be my first! I thought maybe-”

“No.”

“I knew you'd say that,”she smiled.

“Then why'd you ask?”

Poppy motioned to someone behind the desk. Branch leaned forward to see Cathy approaching at top speed.

“This is a training facility Mr. Branch. You signed an agreement when you were accepted here that you will allow trainees to provide your care. Of course, you still have the right to refuse...”

“But you know that would just piss off Smidge,” Poppy jumped in.

Cathy leaned close and nodded.

“It would piss me off.”

The boy grumbled something about being the death of him.

Branch looked back up at the pair. Poppy. He looked up at Poppy. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she wore an exaggeratedly happy smile. The girl rocked back and forth on her heals, patiently waiting for the reply she knew she would get. Branch shook himself away from her eyes. The boy groaned and his shoulders sank in defeat.

“Whatever.” he grumbled.

Poppy squealed in excitement.  Branch yelped.

"DON'T do that!" he panted.

Her glowing hair was pulled tight in a green scrunchie, but a few rogue curls swirled and bounced in the air as she moved.

She touched his arm. Her movement was gentle as she smoothed over the muscle. Her fingers delicately danced up his arm, following the path of the synthetic tube beneath the dermis. Goosebumps beaded on his skin and the little hairs fluffed. The sensation prickled its way up to his neck where the feeling climaxed and he shivered. Suddenly, Poppy stood up and took a step toward Branch. She placed her left thigh between his legs—straddling his knee.

_Holy Shit_

“Sorry, she licked her lips nervously. “I'm a little short. I need a better angle.”

She was close. Her freckles almost transcendent under their powder cover. Branch could count each speck of glitter on her blushing cheeks. Vanilla and strawberries wafting in the air around him. He could taste her with every breath.

Branch never felt the needles go in.

A minute passed before the boy reminded himself where he was.

"W-wa....w-what..Is it okay?”

Poppy attached the empty syringe to the end of the needle and withdrew the plunger. The red sanguinous fluid pulled easily at her command. She looked up, her lips inches from his.

“Beautiful,” she whispered with a soft smile. Their eyes bonded. He couldn't look away. He couldn't breath.

“Hey, you have pretty eyes.” The side of her mouth crinkled up as she admired them. “I never see them when your brows are angry.”

Branch stared—his orbs pushing out of socket.

“Thanks?” he choked. She looked back to her work and the edge of a stray curl brushed his cheek. He didn't dare blow it away. Her hands moved up the boy's arm to confirm placement of the second needle.

“Hmmm...I'm not getting any blood return from the venous.”

Branch snapped out of the trance like a wet towel slapping across his face. Branch hastily looked down at his arm, up at poppy and back to his arm as horror flashed in his mind.

“You broke it?!”

“No-no, silly.” she giggled.

“Don't call me silly.”

“I just need to make a little adjustment," she grumbled to herself as she pulled the stabilizing tape away and took hold of the needle.

“Oww...shit! Oww, OWW! Stop!” Branch squirmed like worm shush-ka-bobbed on a fisherman's hook.

“Dammit! Are you digging for fucking oil?! That's enough, Poppy!”

Poppy released the needle, re-taped it in place, and checked the blood return.

“Great. That looks much better.” Branch pried his fingernails from the arm rest and Poppy hooked the needles to the tubing dangling from the machine.

A few adjustments and a couple of buttons later, his treatment was started. Branch released a gust of air.

_This wasn't so bad. Easier than I--_

Immediate and excruciating pain erupted from his arm. He cried out.

“Shit! Wait! STOP! Oh Fuck! IT HURTS!”

A tennis ball sized lump was bulging under his skin. Blood was leaking out from around the needle.

“Dammit!” Branch screamed. His arm was bursting from the inside and he grimaced in agony.

“What the hell did you do, Poppy?!”

“I did—it was working fine...” Poppy stumbled back.

“You fucking idiot! You have no idea what you're doing! GAH!”

Cathy was at the machine within moments. Branch scowled at Poppy though the tears. Venom in his eyes. She had never seen him so hateful and angry.

“I NEVER should have trusted you!” he spat.

“It's infiltrated, Poppy. Get me an ice pack.”

Cathy un-taped the line and immediately pulled the needle. Branch rocked in his chair—wheezing in anguish. Poppy appeared with an ice pack in her hand. Cathy took the frozen bag and pressed it to the swollen area.

“Okay, Poppy. It will be okay. When this clots, you need to insert a new needle above the area to--”

“What?!” Branch howled-his face in flames. “No! Fuck you! Fuck all of you!”

“Branch,” Cathy soothed, “you need to..” “

"I want off! I want off now! Give me the damn paper to sign!”

“Please, as least let us get your blood back to...” “I don't give a shit! I'm done! Get me off this machine NOW!”

Satin arrived quickly with the Against Medical Advice sheet and Branch ripped it from her. He slammed it on the table and scribbled his signature at the bottom of his page. When he was done, the boy smashed the pen so hard against the hard surface, it bounced off and was sent spinning across the floor. As soon as Cathy had pulled the second needle, Branch's hand clamped around his arm- holding pressure to the puncture sites. He pushed himself out of the chair. The boy snatched his backpack with his free hand, shoved past Poppy, and stomped out of the facility.

Was this going to be his life for the next 10 years?!

“Fucking Morons!!!”

Poppy's face was hot and blotchy. Red eyes were glistening with tears. After failing an attempt at a deep, calming breath, the girl broke into unrestrained sobs and hurried from the room.


	5. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're moving on toward the main story. Actually, not yet, but we're getting closer. This chapter is just a little something and a lot of pointless stuff. Another very short chapter. Have fun!

* squeak...squeak...squeak *

“Cream of Broccoli...”

* squeak *

“Chocolate pudding, carrots, hot chocolate...”

* squeak...squeak...*

Branch reviewed the shopping list to himself as he reached for a loaf of bread and tossed it into the cart. He folded it over and stuffed the paper back into his front pocket. Branch gripped the handle and started back toward the fresh produce.

* squeak...squeak... *

_One cart left in the whole store and it had to be the one with the fuckin, wonky wheel!_

* squeak...squeak...squeak... *

The boy was quickly loosing the battle of wills against the defective monstrosity. His brooding temper mounted with every mocking, metallic screech. He pulled to the side of the lane and lifted the edge of the structure, balancing the corner on his knee. Once it was stable, Branch removed a tissue from his pocket and folded it into a perfect square. Firmly, the boy adjusted the wheel and smoothed the black grease until it fully and evenly coated the tiny silver axle between the castor's mechanism. Branch lowered the cart in place and pulled himself to a stand.

Step.

Silence.

Step...step.

Silence.

Step...step...step.

* squeak *

The boy snapped and exploded into a frenzied kick-out at the wheel, loudly hollering a string of obscenities in unison with his strikes.

“Fucking! Stupid! Piece! Of! Crap! Shit!"

A woman nearby clutched her baby a little tighter and picked up pace.

After exhausting his rant, the boy stood quietly panting, leaning over the bar for support. He caught a movement from the corner of his eye.

A wisp of pink ducked around the cookie display at the end of the aisle. It took Branch a moment to realize that he didn't just imagine it.

_The hell?_

Branch leaned back and arched his neck in attempt to view around the shelving.

_W-what the....is that the Muppet?_

When she was sure that Branch had seen her, Poppy came out from behind the edible advertisement. With nervous baby steps, she shuffled toward him pushing a cart stacked with Oreos, sticks of butter, and frozen chicken nuggets. Branch found it strange to see her in normal clothes—well, almost normal. She wore a pink Trolls T-shirt, and her curls were gathered loosely in a blue daisy hair tie. The enhancing imitation jewels on her purple jeans looked to be hot glued on by hand. Her once white (he guessed) tennis shoes where a rainbow explosion thanks to squiggles and whirls of marker.

“Are you following me?” He asked warily. “Cause I think that's a crime.”

“We're not suppose to talk to patients outside the unit,” she stated, unfazed. “Ya know—just in case...”

Poppy glanced over her shoulder, leaned in and whispered. Soft strawberry breath brushed his cheek.

“Just in case you don't want anyone to know where you know me from...”

“I'm alone, Poppy.”

A sudden heartbreak crashed over her sweet features. Branch rolled his eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, Muppet?”

Poppy's eyes shined at the use of her new nickname.

“I wanted to know...”

She fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt, until she mustered the power to meet his eyes.

“H-howz your arm?”

Branch looked at his limb. The swelling was nearly gone. The bruise was still present but had faded to swamp green.

“It's okay. It's healing. A little sore.”

“Oh—GOOD! Good. That-that's good. I'm glad...” she trailed. Poppy's eyes rolled around her surroundings. Branch couldn't take his attention away from her pants.

“What's with your jeans?”

Poppy glanced down at the clothing in question.

"These? Ya. They didn't sparkle enough, so I improved them. Some designers have no imagination.”

Branch gestured to the stacks of sweet cream butter packages in her basket.

"And the butter?  Are you baking twenty dozen cupcakes?"

“OH! I love butter!” The girl twinkled and her words rushed with excitement. “You can mix a stick with two cups of sugar and it is SOOO good! Better than cookie dough! You can even add different flavoring to it—I love vanilla!” Poppy's whole body was vibrating as she bubbled.“You should try it!”

Branch suppressed a rising verp.

“No thanks. I'm good.”

The awkward silence invaded the moment as the couple looked around aimlessly at products crowding the shelves.

“Was there something else you wanted, Poppy?”

“Just to see about your arm...and...” Her pitch raised slightly.

Branch arched his eyebrows.

“And?”

“And I wanted to return....” Poppy dug through the baby blue tote bag hanging over her shoulder before pulling out a dark blue spiral notebook.

“This.”

Branch's eyebrows touched his hairline.

“Oh! O my God!” Branch snatched the book from her hand.

Poppy grinned with pride at the reaction to her good deed.

“Oh my God, Poppy! WAIT! Did you READ IT?!”

_Fuck! Flatlining! FLATLINING RIGHT NOW!_

“No-no! I didn't! I swear.” waving her palms in the air.

Panic still surged through the boy's blood. Poppy tilted her head and smiled.

“It says, “Private.”” The girl stated as if it were obvious. She leaned close and pointed “Right there on the cover.”

Branch read the bold, black lettering written in black marker. He looked back at Poppy with skepticism.

Poppy shrugged.

“I figured you meant it.”

“Ya”. Branch felt his heart start beating again.

“And..” Poppy continued as she kicked at the ground. “I figured you mean most things you say.”

Branch's stomach dropped.

_Shit._

He placed the blue binder in his cart. The boy stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets as he rotated back to Poppy.

“Look...about the other day..” Branch started rubbing the back of his neck and blew a puff of air through his dry lips. Poppy stopped nudging at the floor and glanced up.

“I was having a bad day, Poppy.”

Memories of the conversation at the doctor's office flashed through his vision.

“A really bad day,” he grumbled. “I was pissed. I blew my top and I shouldn't have taken it out so hard on you. I know it was an accident.”

“Soooo, you don't think I'm a moron?” A quiver of hope in her voice.

Branch smirked.

“I still think you're a moron. Just not a fucking one.”

Poppy returned the expression..

“I guess I can work with that. You're forgiven.” she smiled.

Poppy reached out and playfully bumped the boy's arm with her fist.

“Oww! That's my sore arm!”

“Oh cheezy-boos!” Poppy flustered. “Sorry-SORRY!”

She started rubbing his arm on instinct.

“Shit! Stop! That hurts too!”

“Oh Gosh! Sorry! So sorry!” She apologized, trying not to giggle (but failing). Poppy snapped her hands away and locked them behind her back.

Branch clutched his arm defensively and eyed the girl as if she would poke him with a sharp stick next.

“I, ah, still have some shopping to do, so I guess I'll let you get going. I'll see you later, Branch.”

She took a step, but in a flash, she turned and swept her arms around the boy's waist.  Branch froze, arms dangling in midair. His face blushing to match the hair that was pressed against his chest.

 _Oh_.

It was over in a fleeting moment and she released him.

"Sorry again," she muttered quickly as she brushed one of her fallen locks behind her ear.  

Poppy smiled her sugar-glazed lips before spinning her cart and making her way back down the aisle, that same old bounce returning in her step. After a few seconds, Branch turned and headed the opposite way. His heart felt a little lighter.

* squeak...squeak...squeak...*

_Shit._


	6. Chocolate Is Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's move Branch and Poppy a little closer, shall we?

The day was warm. Leaves of the maple trees crinkled in the air, creating broken and rippling shadows on the path. Dogs meandered through the park with their owners in tow. Branch sat on the bench with his elbow propped on the wooden back rest. Enjoying the atmosphere, he licked his chocolaty frozen treat, rotating the cone as he went.

A man talking to the frozen sweets vendor paid for his product, then turned to his hairy companion. The dog inhaled the cone before it had a chance to leave the man's hand. Branch chuckled. The next customer in line moved forward to take his place.

A vision of pink stood patiently, swishing her blue skirt back and forth in the breeze.

_Hey. I know that girl._

Poppy left the ice cream stand, a stacked cone, dripping pink, in her grasp. She touched her tongue against her hand, catching the drops, and slowly followed the creamy line up the side of the wafer. Smacking her lips, the girl giggled at the sweetness. She lifted her eyes.

For once, Branch's surprised expression from seeing her was mutual. Poppy's astonishment melted to her usual sunshine smile and she bounced toward the boy.

“Seriously, are you stalking me? Because this is getting weird.”

“Can I join you?” she asked innocently, batting her eyes.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“Probably not.”

Poppy lowered herself beside the boy, careful not to topple her dessert. After a few more licks, the girl satisfied her compelling addiction long enough to address the boy beside her.

“So, whatcha doin' here?”

Branch gestured to his cone as if the answer was obvious.

“Oh, right,” she grinned, humorously knocking herself in the forehead with her palm. “It's good, isn't it? Best in town I think.”

“Mmm....” Branch responded, venturing a small bite into the frozen, creamy cocoa.

“I'm glad I ran into you, though.” Poppy took a bite of her own. “Been meaning to ask you something.”

Branch didn't bother looking at the girl, but released an irritated sigh.

“What is it?”

“In your chart, why is no one listed as next of kin? That's pretty important information to have if there's an emergency.”

“Don't you think that's bit personal Poppy?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Because someone should.”

Branch groaned.

“I don't have a next of kin.”

“I got that.” she admitted. “But most people name a friend or a neighbor or...something.”

Branch sat quietly, trying to think of an acceptable response that would put an end to the subject. He couldn't.

“I- uh...I don't have many friends.”

“Why not?”

“People suck.”

Poppy scrunched her nose in offense.

“That's not true.” But after a moment, the girl revised her statement.

“Okay, maybe SOME people suck. Like-people who have no regard for the feelings of others. Who are rude and angry all the time, and just fire back with misery-laced sarcasm when you trying to be nice...”

Branch looked her dead in the face.

“Really?”

Poppy averted her eyes and coughed.

“What I mean is, most of us are just making our way through life, trying to do what we think is right at the time. Sometimes we make mistakes. But life is also about making connections, and sometimes those connections turn out to be a really great thing. You should give more people a chance.”

“I've given plenty of people chances, Poppy. I always seem to get knocked on my ass for my trouble. I got sick of it,” the boy mumbled.

Branch took another lick of his cone as Poppy watched him thoughtfully. A bulb lit up and she smiled.

“Well then!” the girl piped.

Branch grabbed his chest when his heart jumped into his throat.

The girl popped to her knees on the bench, facing him. She leaned close to the boy, pulsing with positive energy.

“When something goes a little wrong,” she sang, “you can go ahead and take it on! And if it knocks, knocks you over, You! Can! Get! Back! Up! A-gain!”

Momentarily entertained by her enthusiasm, Branch cracked a smile, but quickly let it falter. Memories floated in like a fog, darkening the sweet thought.

“Sometimes the bruises from being struck down hurt the most when you try to pull yourself up.”

Poppy's energy softened and she leaned back, resting on her feet.

“That's when you ask a friend for help.”

“I...I don't have friends.”

“Everyone has friends, or at least least one.”

The tenderness in her voice was soothing.

Branch chuckled sadly.

“It's fine. I don't need your pity, Poppy. I've been sick for quite a while. Finding time to spend with people doesn't happen. Really--I'm used to it. Besides, as Cathy put it so delicately, I'm a bit of an asshole.”

Poppy gently laid her hand on Branch's.

“I can be your friend,” she smiled.

Branch eyed the girl, and then their touching skin--unsure of how to respond. He uncomfortably slipped his hand out from under hers.

“That's really not necessary.”

“Friendship IS necessary, Branch. Whether you think so or not.”

The boy furrowed his brow. The squeamishness in his belly grew more distressing.

_Poppy cares. Poppy cares too much. The girl would give her life to pull a hamster from a burning building. Not everyone is worth saving, but she would still be crushed when the inevitable happened._

“I cant be your friend, Poppy.”

“Doesn't matter!” she declared, conclusive in her decision. “It's already done!”

_Well, the girl has spirit. It may be the spirit of a rabid, fuchsia-tinted, sugar-coated sea monkey, but she's got spirit._

Poppy looked into the sky blue eyes of the boy.

“You don't have be my friend for me to be yours,” she said softly.

Branch stared back, studying the sincerity in the curves of her face. The glitter appeared to glow with her eyes. The slightly pointy tips of her ears poked out from the cotton-candy strands. Poppy broke contact and the magic dissipated.

“And for starters, as your friend...”

Poppy's voice morphed into what the boy could only assume was her serious tone.

“We need to discuss your phosphorus intake. Your level is too high.”

“My what now?” Branch clambered, blindsided by the rapid subject change.

_Fuckin weird-ass friendship conversation._

“Phosphorus. You need to restrict it as part of your renal diet.”

“Why?”

Poppy cocked her head in confusion.

“Didn't they give you a paper on what diet to follow when you first started treatment?'

Branch shrugged.

“Eh-they gave me a lot of papers when I started.”

Poppy tried her best to scowl and Branch stifled a snort in response.

“Phosphorus is found in some of the food you eat, Bud. You have to avoid these foods to stay healthy.”

“Okay, like what?” Branch inquired as took another bite of his ice cream.

“Well,” Poppy began, biting the corner of her lip. “Chocolate for starters.”

Branch sputtered. A hundred wet, brown droplets bloomed through the air and splattered on the path in front of him. Branch wiped his mouth in embarrassment. Poppy found it hilarious.

“W-what?! Fuck-I can't even eat chocolate?!”

“You shouldn't—it's full of phosphorus,” the girl warned.

“And what the hell is so terrible about phosphorus that would make it worth giving up chocolate?!”

Poppy made herself comfortable on the bench.

“Phosphorus binds the the calcium in your blood,” she began and interlaced her fingers to demonstrate. “Then, in that form, your kidneys can get rid of it.”

She untied her fingers and pointed an accusing finger toward Branch.

“Your kidneys don't work, so this calcium/phosphorus bond just stays in your blood stream. Over time, it builds up and calcifies your blood vessels.”

Poppy bowed closer to the boy and gripped his arm, shaking it for emphasis. “

It turns them to stone, Branch! That is BAD.”

The girl returned to her position with a pleased grin.

“You gotta nip it in the bud, Bud. You need to kick phosphorus out of your diet.”

Branch gaped with a hint of annoyance.

“Did you memorize that speech?”

“I give it a lot, yes,” she nodded.

“So...if I cut out chocolate,” Branch mumbled to himself, mulling over the information. “I cut out phosphorus?”

Poppy frowned.

“Well, no. It's not just chocolate.”

Icy dread crept up the boy's throat.

“Phosphorus is in a lot of things, Branch. Chocolate...ice cream...dark sodas...cheeses...beer...”

“Beer?! What the hell, Poppy?!”

“You shouldn't be drinking beer anyway, it's bad for you!” she snapped. “Plus, if you keep drinking you're gonna fill up like a water balloon and end up in the ER at 3am—drunk and fluid-overloaded. You really want that?!”

_There are worse ways to go._

“I guess not. But, come'on! Chocolate? Seriously?!” he pleaded. “It's like my sugar-butter!”

“Well, it's not like you can NEVER eat that stuff. Just in moderation,” she stated definitively.

Branch puffed.

“Fine,” he growled. “Then consider this my daily dose.”

With his jaw opened wide, he pushed the rest of the cone into his mouth, over-stuffing his cheeks with sticky, fudgy glop.

“Mmmmm....mo goooob.....” he sneered, chewing exaggeratedly.

A stream of melted gooiness escaped his lips and trickled down the corner of his mouth. Poppy giggled at the display.

“You should take this more seriously, Branch. The transplant team reviews your chart and they see your lab results. If you can't follow your diet, they are going to tag you as non-compliant and refuse to give you a kidney.”

Branch managed to swallow some of masticated mess, making room for coherent conversation.

“Don't you ever stop acting like a nurse?”

She shrugged and pulled a napkin from the stack in her hand.

“Can't really turn it off.”

Without thinking Poppy stretched out her arm and wiped the creamy, brown smudge from the corner of Branch's mouth. The boy froze with her touch.

“Besides, caring is in my nature,” she cooed. “And I care about you.”

Her eyes widened for a second, realizing what she had said, and quickly looked back to her melting ice cream. Branch's eyes flickered away in kind as he cleared his throat. The silence was growing more distressing. Someone had to break it.

“S-since...since we're going to be friends...” he whispered, his voice trembling nervously.

Poppy looked up at the boy with curiosity.

“Want to...um...want to do this again?”

His voice squeaked with the last few words, but Branch hoped she hadn't noticed.

There was silence.

“Y-You mean ice cream?”

“No! No!” Branch exclaimed quickly, holding his hands up in defense.

In that second, he considered retracting the entire statement. Branch took time to ponder his next move. He took a deep breath, and then he took a chance. He turned to the girl with a half smile.

“How about cookies?”

Poppy's eyes immediately sparkled, but after a moment, she adjusted her position awkwardly.

“Wait- are you diabetic?”

_Seriously. Stop being a damn nurse for one minute._

“U-uh...no?”

Poppy arched her eyebrow and studied the boy's face. He was fidgeting nervously, bubbles of sweat appeared on his brow, and the shade of his complexion would rival an entire field of poppies. The girl's eyes softened and suspicion transformed into her usual, sweet grin.

“Ya. I'd like that.”


	7. Reality Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just read.

The day was cooler than the last. Fresh, air blew over the lake, picking up the scents of the water and quenching the lungs of the people who navigated the trails encompassing it. The couple walked the gravel path, lazily dodging bikers as they rushed through. Their feet ground and rubbed against the rocks, skittering the lighter pebbles as they made their way through the park. Squirrels scurried through the leaves and birds hiding in bordering bushes took to flight as the two passed by. In the shadow of the forest along side the lake, Poppy nibbled away at her treat eagerly, while Branch savored his a bite at a time.

“I never knew they made double layered cookies filled with buttercream! This is fabulous!” Poppy squealed, her fingers still trebling with excitement as she clutched her prize.

Poppy glanced at the plain sugar cookie in the boy's hand.

“No chocolate chips today?”

Branch scoffed.

“I hear that chocolate's not good for me so I've been cutting down,” he frowned. “Haven't had any in nearly 24 hours.”

Poppy grinned with pride at the boy's small accomplishment.

“Hows that going for you?”

“It sucks fucking monkey ass,” he grumbled.

Poppy squished against the cookie mush in her mouth with mild annoyance.

“You know, Branch, for a poet your language is pretty unrefined.”

“I'm not a poet,” said the boy.

“You write poetry, that makes you a poet,” said Poppy, shoving another bite into her mouth.

Branch softly shook his head.

“I don't think that's how it works.”

“Oh sure it is,” Poppy muffled, her cheeks stuffed with viscus melting sweetness.

Branch cracked a smile at Poppy's unintentional but adorable chipmunk impression.

“Fine,” he smirked. “It sucks disturbingly abhorrent monkey ass.”

Poppy laughed, but immediately started to cough and sputter, when she accidentally inhaled the wet crumbs. Branch stopped walking and chuckled until Poppy was able to unobstruct her airway.

“How was that?” he grinned sarcastically.

“Your poetry must suck,” she coughed.

“Mmmm..maybe,” Branch mumbled, still smiling.

Their legs continued plodding the gravel walk that curved its way through the forest and around the lake.

“Sooooo...” Poppy began nervously. “You think, sometime, I can....”

“No.”

She turned to the boy, irritated.

“You can't say no! You didn't know what I was gonna ask!”

“Sure I did.”

Poppy frowned.

“Why not?”

“They're private.”

Poppy groaned and shoved the remainder of the cookie in her mouth. The girl turned her head and took in the scenery as they moved. Poppy loved this time of year—the marshy scent of the water, the bitter fresh smell of the leaves, the sounds of fishermen's bobbers dropping into the water with a “plop.”

“So....” Branch softly spoke.

Popped snapped her attention back to the boy in the blue shirt beside her.

“Why did you become a nurse?”

Poppy's eager words could hardly be contained--thrilled to be the subject of his curiosity.

“Actually, I didn't choose it out of the blue. I was originally a visual art major. I loved it—especially drawing! I LOVE to draw!”

Branch couldn't help but be drawn in by her enthusiasm.

“I think it's amazing how with a simple idea, you can affect how people feel and think. Make them hopeful or passionate or curious. I used to spend hours…”

Poppy paused, lost in the memory. Seeing the change in her face, Branch tilted his head with concern.

Poppy clicked back into reality, and sniffed.

“Anyway, it didn't work out. So, I did one of those personality quiz things? You know-the ones that match with careers you'd be good at? Nursing was right at the top of the list. I thought, hey! I can do that! I mean, I like people and I like making them feel better. So, I went for it!”

Poppy's shoulders relaxed, her expression cheerful but calm.

“And I'm glad I did,” she smiled.

Branch mirrored her expression, thinking how close their lives came to never meeting.

 _Me too_.

“Now I just sketch for fun.”

Branch smirked.

“You think I could see one sometime?” he teased.

Poppy turned her head and blushed—watching the trees shift as they walked.

“I...they're private,” she grinned shyly. “Besides, I'm really not that good.”

Branch chuckled to himself.

The two walked in silence. Branch took another bite of his cookie. Suddenly, an idea struck Poppy and her face was alight.

“Tell you what—I'll make you a deal?” she stated with a sly smile and nudged the boy's elbow with her own.

“I'll show you a picture if you show me a poem.”

“No.”

“Come'on, Branch!” She whined. “What do you have to loose?"

“Respect.”

“No worries—you never had that,” Poppy smiled.

Branch snicked.

“Please? Just one little poem?” she pleaded, batting her long, dark lashes.

“Why are you pushing this, Poppy?” A hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Because I'm curious.”

“Why? What does it matter?”

“What if, some day, you become a famous poet? Or a writer or something?!”

Branch scoffed. “That's not going to happen.”

“You could end up being on the best seller list!” Poppy beamed, growing more excited as she talked.

As Branch listened to the girl, a black fog beyond his control billowed into his mind—chilling the warmth of the moment. Images sparked like lightening in the cloud, that crushed her sweet words into the desolating abyss of his reality.

“You could travel Europe promoting your book...”

Poppy's voice grew muffled and distant to his ears as the dark thoughts overpowered his mind.

“I'd be able to say that I knew Mr. R. Branch back when he...”

One image towered, stronger than all the others--like an obelisk of ice, slicing into his brain:

_Dozens of notebooks were stacked neatly on the shelf, next to a small, unkempt bed. Poems and secrets had slowly filled their pages through the decade--each word chosen carefully before it was written. Years or months from now, someone would be sent to clean out the apartment. The collected keepsakes would be tossed into trash bins with photographs and other cherished items deemed meaningless to anyone else. Some may be donated to a worthy cause, giving remnants of a useless life one last ditch effort at a some sort of purpose._

“You can stop, Poppy...” he choked, but the girl didn't hear him.

_Dust clouding the air, catching the sunlight as it swirled. Graded papers left scattered on the floor to be trampled on. Books tossed to the furnace and reduced to ash._

“Maybe you could make me a character...”

_Empty shelves and empty cupboards. No shoes tossed lazily by the front door._

“Poppy...please...”

_A white sign posted in front of the building—advertising vacancy._

“But she would have to have pink hair, because, come'on—it's kinda my thing...”

_A picture of a young boy and a gray haired women, laughing...smiling...lies broken and forgotten, buried at the city dump._

“Ooohhh...could you make it a romance...”

_Empty closets and barren walls. Silent and cold. No fragment of his life left to prove that he ever...that he had ever..._

The ice shattered, and the boy exploded.

“Stop it, Poppy! None of that IS EVER GOING TO HAPPEN!”

The girl yelped and jumped away.

Branch froze, his jaw was clenched and his tongue pressed tight against his teeth.

The reflective sheen of creeping tears, glazed Poppy's wide orbs.

“W-why not?” her whisper hitching in her throat.

He looked at the girl. Her auburn eyes stared, confused with flicker of fear as she awaited an answer that he wasn't ready to give. His skin flamed with the turmoil that raged within. It pushed at the tears budding at the corners of his bright cobalt eyes. His lip trembled as he found his voice.

“I'm dying, Poppy,” the boy whispered.

Poppy stepped back, involuntarily shaking her head, unable to accept what she was hearing.

“Wha? W-why would you say something like that?”

Her lips pouted and twitched but she fought to stay in control of her emotions.

Branch touched his fingers to his temples, mitigating the building pressure behind them. The boy gasped and slumped his chin to his chest. An ache clawed at his insides. Branch stood helpless to the regret devouring him over the small slip. The flood gate was now open and he couldn't swim. He couldn't find air. The boy was lost on what could possibly be the right thing to say at that moment. Trembling, Branch walked onto the small, floating dock just off the path. Resting his elbows on the railing, he pressed his hands over his eyes.

Poppy was at his side but he hardly noticed.

“Why do you think you're dying?” the girl whispered, unsure if she wanted an answer.

“Kidney failure is progressive--you know this. I can't stop it.”

“B-but you're on dialysis. You're getting treatment. You can easily live another...”

“What, Poppy?!” he snapped. “Ten years? Then what?!”

Poppy was silent, her eyes holding back tears of her own. Branch groaned, and dropped his head to arms, his messy black locks dangled and danced in the breeze off the lake.

“I didn't want this. This is NEVER how I imagined my life to be.” Branch inhaled another deep breath—the ache less present than before.

“I'm tired, Poppy,” exacerbation choked his voice. “And I don't want this to be my existence...would you?!”

Poppy's frown was pulled tight.

“Are you going to hurt yourself?”

Poppy's voice was clear, clinical.

Branch grimaced

_Always has to act like a nurse._

“I'm not suicidal, Poppy. I don't WANT to die.”

Branch sighed and looked down past the surface of the lake. Plant life swayed in the water and tiny minnows darted through the reeds as the dock rose and fell with the gentle waves.

“Cancer...heart attack... kidney failure, these are all fucking natural causes. Just because I don't want to be tethered to a machine for the next decade and prolong the enviable, does NOT mean I'm suicidal. There's a difference.”

Branch looked at the girl. His distraught features were a wash of disappointment.

“Dialysis is a choice, right? Of all people, Poppy...I thought you would understand that.”

The pink-haired girl flicked her vision back and forth between the boy's eyes.

“No, No-no-no- wait.” Poppy flustered. “Y-You, you have options! I know I gave you crap about the phosphorus, but your labs are actually really good, Branch! You're a fantastic transplant candidate...”

“I'm not getting a transplant!” He screamed and the girl flinched.

The boy's mouth twisted with despair and a few tears broke loose when the corners of his eyes crinkled from the engulfing anguish that tore at his heart. But after a few seconds, Branch felt powerless to hold the girl's gaze and dropped his eyes to the rippling water below.

“I don't understand it all, but my antibodies are very specific and the Doctor doesn't think..”

The boy pulled in another shaky breath.

“H-he doesn't think that we will ever find a match.”

Poppy desperately flipped through her thoughts for another option--some hidden and glowing hope that could brighten this situation. But there was no bright side here.

Branch rested his head against his forearm.

“That kidney I'm waiting for?” he said weakly. “It...it's never coming. There's no hope...and I don't want to spend all that time waiting on a second chance that will never happen.”

Poppy's sorrow hardened. Anger burned in her stomach and erupted through her body.

“That's bullshit!” She snapped.

Branch jumped at Poppy's outburst. He stared baffled at the fuming girl. Poppy's fists were clenched and her whole body was shaking. The muppet was pissed.

“Maybe things seem bad right now! Maybe you can hardly find the energy to get up in the morning and I have NO DOUBT that dialysis treatments suck big time! But you CAN NOT stand there and tell me that you don't want this life!”

The boy's jaw could not have dropped lower.

“As big of a pain in the ass as you are, and as grumpy and prickly as you try to be? With all of your complaints of being tired and hopeless? You still come to your treatment every darn time! When I blew your graft, you were scared. You were angry, sure, but you were SCARED! You didn't want to loose your dialysis access because no matter how hard things are and how pointless it all may seem, somewhere deep inside...”

Poppy poked hard into the boy's shoulder.

“You. Don't. Want. To. Give. Up.”

The girl's gaze dove deep into those sparkling ice crystals, holding them with unrelenting strength to insure Branch heard every word.

“And that? Bud? That is HOPE.”

Branch was a deer caught in the fucking headlights.

“Fuck, you really are all cupcakes and rainbows aren't you?” he mumbled.

“Can't really turn it off,” she stated firmly.

For some reason, Branch found comfort in that answer. With a puff, he pushed himself away from the railing.  He wiped the wet streaks from his cheek and returned to the gravel path.

Poppy felt a strong urge to wrap her arms around him. But, for reasons she didn't know, the girl resisted.

In a few quick steps, Poppy caught up to the boy's pace. Their stroll continued, side by side, and just a little closer than before.

 


	8. Rainbows and Lavender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the story begins. Hopefully there will be a few giggles in this one to make up for the last chapter being a bit harsh. Thanks to theobsessedmoose for helping me with editing this chapter because I REALLY suck at it. There is a LOT of boring talking. Sorry. Next chapter will have less talk and more activity. The next chapter won't be out for at least 3 weeks because I have some adult stuff I have to do and I've put it off for way too long. I hope you enjoy!

 

 

After an hour of awkward silences and feeble attempts to break the ice, the tension between the couple eased at last and casual conversation continued.

“So, why don't you use your first name?”

“It's stupid.” Branch mumbled. Poppy snickered.

“Thanks for the elaborate detail, bud.” Branch scratched at the delicate hairs on back of his neck--dragging out his exhale with reluctant defeat.

“When I was younger, I had to move around a lot. There was always somebody new—people who were too busy to learn my name, let alone how to pronounce it correctly.  Telling them to call me 'Branch' was just...easier, I guess.”

“Hmmm...I can see that,” she mused then softly grinned. “I kinda like ‘Branch’ better anyway.” The boy smiled to himself. They walked on in relative quietude. The forest opened up to grassy hills where the lake curved and the sun was once again warm on their backs. Ducks conversed between themselves on the lake and small children monitored their bobbers with anticipation from the shore. Dragonflies flew low to the water, and hungry fish jumped at the chance for a meal.

“What's your last name again?” Branch asked, stealing a glance at Poppy from the corner of his eye, tentatively preparing for the embarrassment if he had asked her that question before.

“Patel—pronounced Pa-tell” she smiled.  “Poppy Patel.”

“Patel...” the boy echoed to himself before stopping in his tracks. “Wait-Patel? As in...Patel Industries?” Poppy shifted awkwardly on her feet. She bit the corner of her bottom lip and nodded. Branch turned back to the path deep in thought.

“Huh.”   The couple continued their travel. Branch gulped.

“Aren't the Patels...like...multimillionaires?” Branch asked. Poppy rubbed her arm, blushing and embarrassed.

 

“You could say that.” she mumbled.

“So, if you don't need the money, why do you work?” he asked. “Shouldn't you be lying on a beach in Greece or something?”

“Well,” Poppy explained, “Self reliance is pretty important in our family.  We are all expected to learn to take care of ourselves and make our own way. Money isn't just _handed over_ to us. Plus, believe it or not,” she smiled, “I really like what I do.” Branch cracked a half smile in return.

“So, what are you going to school for?” Poppy asked, feeling it was her turn to get some answers.

“I haven't decided yet.” he shrugged.  “Took me awhile to save up so I'm just doing a class or two at a time.  I'm working on my generals right now until I figure it out.” The minutes ticked by and another question burned in Poppy's mind until she finally gathered the nerve to ask it.

“Branch?”

“Hmmm...” he replied, watching his feet as they walked, leaves crunching into the gravel.

“Are you happy?” She asked. Branch furrowed his eyebrows.

“I don't really do “happy” he replied dryly.

“I'm serious, Branch.” said the girl. Branch shrugged his shoulders lazily.

“I guess...”

“It's just that...” Poppy twisted her fingers around her wrist anxiously. “Your inner rainbow doesn't seem to shine.” Branch raised an eyebrow toward the girl.

“My what, now?”

“Your inner rainbow,” she grinned. “It's the light that's inside you.  The passion and appreciation for all the beautiful and wonderful things around you. It's your happiness, Branch.”

“Now you're just making shit up,” he grumbled. Poppy placed a gentle hand on Branch's shoulder and he stopped. Poppy's voice was soft.

“What makes you happy, Branch?” The boy's stomach plummeted, he frowned; searching for an answer. The girl waited patiently. Her tongue smoothly glazed over her soft lips.

“I....I-I don't know,” he whispered, staring back at the girl. Pity reflected in gold-speckled circles, making Branch feel worse. He shrugged her hand away.

“Poppy, I can see you're concerned.  It's sweet—really...” Then Branch swallowed and his eyes sharpened. “Look, you've probably had a pretty charmed life, and it's easy to be optimistic when the world falls at your feet with every step. But for the rest of us who live in the real world, rainbows quickly lose their magical appeal.” Branch's hard expression relaxed. He turned away and sighed.   The far-off sound of children laughing as they played was almost cruel to Branch's ears. His voice turned hollow.

“The bright colors in my world faded to gray a long time ago.”  A flurry of emotions pulled at the corners of the girl's mouth and heat flushed through her cheeks..  

“M-maybe, if you just try...”  

“You don't get it,” He said, voice distant. The boy turned to capture the girl's amber eyes. The icy circles were bitter, defeated, and the intensity of his voice was begging her to understand. “Every day, I feel like I'm treading in an ocean of quicksand that I'm eventually going drown in anyway.  I don't need rainbows, Poppy. I just need to keep my head above the sand.”

“Branch?” she whispered, stepping closer. “If you are serious, about not having much time left, why not try to enjoy it while you can?” Branch's eyebrows knotted, listening to what Poppy was trying to say.

“Go sky-diving!” she encouraged--smile glowing and waving her arms in excitement, “Learn to juggle flaming bowie knives! Ask the prettiest girl at in the room to dance!”

“Never been to a dance,” Branch muttered before he could stop himself. Poppy's jaw gaped as empathy swarmed in her chest.

“You...you've never been do a dance?”  She asked, not wanting to believe him. The image of a young boy, sitting alone at home while his classmates danced carefree in a cray-paper decorated gymnasium cut Poppy deep. Branch was silent, instantly regretting he had opened his big mouth...again.

“Middle school? Prom?” she gasped. Branch shook his head, trying to brush it off her reaction.

“It's fine, Poppy. I don't dance.”

“It's NOT fine!”  She grabbed his hand. “It's..it's heart crushing...” she whimpered softly. Branch stopped walking and stared at their entwined fingers. He blushed and unraveled their connection—taking a step back.

“What's your point, Poppy?”

“My point is,” she spoke, soft and heartfelt.  “Just because you don't see rainbows, doesn't mean they're not there.  Sometimes you just need someone to help you find them.” Branch's head was pounding and his throat tightened.

“W-why...why do you care so much about this?” He choked. Poppy closed her pouting lips and stared at the boy. Concern overwhelmed the natural glimmer in her auburn eyes. She touched his hand and, this time, he didn't pull away.

“Everyone deserves to be happy, Branch,”  she said honestly. The girl licked her cherry lips, dry from the cool breeze. “I just want you to be happy.”

Branch felt exposed, as if Poppy could see his thoughts, naked and raw. But she wouldn't judge him. Poppy wasn't the type to judge. He was caught in her eyes—deep pools he could happily drown in. It was beautiful the way her skin shimmered. The unique, blended chemistry that was Poppy, was magnetic and the gravitation was pulling the boy closer. The force was so strong he was certain she could feel it too. He stepped closer...

“Poppy!”  A voice echoed from across the park. The couple flinched and their hands disjoined. Branch and Poppy scanned the rolling hill, searching for the source of the call. A tall, lean boy was strolling toward them over the grass, his hand held high in the air waving them down. Straight-legged, banana-tinted slacks covered his lower half and swayed freely as he moved.

“You know that guy?”

“Sure I do--that's my Creek!” Poppy hopped in place on the gravel path. “He's the love of my life! Oh- Oh, Branch, I have to introduce you! You're _really_ going to like him!” The tall boy's blue and teal dyed hair was wrapped tight in a man bun and a calm, placid grin adorned his strikingly good-looking features.

_I don't like him._

Branch watched the boy suspiciously as he approached. His entire manner reeked of self-proclaimed superiority.

“Why isn't he wearing a shirt?”

“He likes to let his skin breath,” the Poppy swooned. When Creek was within reach, Poppy squealed and lunged into his open arms--kissing his cheek repeatedly. Branch darted his eyes to the ground. The tall boy laughed and twirled Poppy in the air, skimming her toes through the grass.

“My goodness, love! Somebody has missed me since yesterday,” he laughed.

_Shit. He's British too._

Grinning, the boy returned Poppy to the ground.

“Always!” she giggled. Creek finally took notice of the boy next to them with the wind-drifted black hair.

“Oh.  Hello.” His fake smile completed the picture for Branch.

_Lavender eyes? Who the fuck has lavender eyes?!_

“Sweetie, this is Branch.  He's my....uh....uh...” Branch and Creek stared at Poppy. “...guy...I know.”

_Nailed it._

“Well, any 'guy' of Poppy's is a friend of mine.” Creek smiled. The hippie extended his toned arm to the boy. “Lovely to meet you, mate.” Branch ignored the physical invitation.

“You too, Creep.”

“It's Creek.” he corrected with a presence lighter than blowing silk.

Branch looked over the teal-haired boy, taking in his non-conformities.

“Where are your shoes?” Branch inquired. Creek pulled a smug grin and glanced at his feet as he wiggled his toes into the soft, green blades.  

“I like to experience every moment using ALL of my senses.  You can never take in too much of what the world has to offer.”

“You will if you step in dog shit,” Branch responded, stone-faced. Creek smirked, unimpressed.

“Right.”

“Creek!” Poppy burst in, “Creek teaches yoga here at the park, right sweetie?” Creek regained his smug grin.

“True." Creek reached a hand behind Poppy and rubbed her back lovingly.  "I also co-own the mediation studio in town. I like too... use my vast experience to help guide others on their path toward inner peace and enlightenment.” Branch stared coldly at the boy.

“Inspiring.” his voice flat. “And people buy that shit?”

The teal-haired boy's grin fell. Poppy's view shot back and forth between the two boys on either side of her, unsure of where the growing tension was coming from. They appeared to be caught in a staring contest. Creek leaned into Poppy's jewelry adorned ear, softly brushing a pink tendril away with his fingertips.

“What's wrong with him?”

“I think he's shy,” she whispered back with a sweet smile.

“Or antisocial,” Creek mumbled as he scanned Branch from the corner of his eye.

“Oh, I'm not shy or antisocial.” Branch retorted. “I just don't like you.” Creek's lips tightened, growing increasingly annoyed with the smart-ass coments.

“Branch!” Poppy shot in again trying to defuse the mounting pressure.. “Branch here is a poet, ... and— _AND_ he's taking classes at the college to further his education.” Poppy's exaggerated smile exposed both her sparkling upper and lower rows of teeth as she continued to dart her vision nervously between Branch and Creek's intense eyes.

“Ah, that's sounds fascinating,” Creek responded snidely.   “And what is your area of study, mate?”

Branch's eyes narrowed .

“That would be in the field of none of your damn business,” he replied sourly.

Creek scoffed and tipped his rounded nose a little higher.

“I, myself, have a masters in Religious Studies and minor Foreign Languages.” The tall boy's lips curled with his words to match his smug expression. Branch smirked.

“Well, I can see you speak fluent bullshit.”

Creeks dropped his chin and stared, the animosity rumbling through his veins.

“Glad to see that you're not letting your education get in the way of your ignorance,” he sneered.

“Are you trying to piss me off, asshole?” the blue-eyed boy seethed.

The corner of Creek's lips twitched.

“Not at all. Just trying help brighten that dark aura of yours...it's as black as that mop on top of your thick skull.”

“Ouch. Was that suppose to sting?” Branch growled, baring his teeth

“Not if it went over your head,” retorted Creek with a snobbish grin, but anger was storming beneath the crumbling serene surface. Branch stepped closer, his eyes dark and fixed.

“Kinda like how your fancy education still doesn't hide your natural stupidity?”

“You know mate”, Creek growled softly, “That bloody big mouth of yours is going to fuck up your Karma.”

Branch stepped closer, glaring into the boy's lavender eyes. The hairs on his neck stood on end.

“Your hair sucks.”

“Second thought?" Creek's lips twisted. “Karma takes too long. I'd rather beat the shit out of you right now.”

“Creek?” Poppy tried to warn...but only came out as a increasingly desperate squeak. Branch stepped forward.

“You think you've got it in you, hippie?”

Creek leaned in--fury rumbling in his blood.

“Bring it on, poet...” Branch's temper blazed in his chest--pulling his hands into tight and trembling balls.

“Is your ass jealous of all the crap that comes out of your flapping mouth?!” Branch growled.

Creek pushed closer, their noses nearly touching, his expression vicious.

“Why don't you kiss it and find out!”

Blue met lavender, fists were clenched, and the atmosphere between them thundered-- ready to ignite.

“Wow! Okay-that's enough!” Poppy wedged herself between the quarreling boys.  “I don't know what's going on, but this needs to stop now!” She placed a firm palm on each of their chests.

“Branch?! Take a step back or I'll tell Smidge to kick your ass!  And Creek?!” Creek flicked his eyes to the girl upon hearing his name. “I swear! I'll dip your comb in an unflushed toilet when you're not looking!”

The boys held their heated gaze--anger boiling between them. After a few more tense moments, Creek inhaled deeply through his nose and closed his eyes.  He then exhaled with a calming hum.  The softness returned to his face and he took a step back. Branch maintained his aggressive stance.  

“Okay, Poppy. I can be the mature one here.” Creek smiled sweetly at the girl. “Anything to make you happy, love.” Branch glanced at Poppy to catch her returning smile, then back to the teal-haired boy.

Creek reached out and took the girl's hands.

“Poppy, dear, the play is in an hour, did you need to stop at home before we go?” Poppy sprung her eyes wide.

“Oh, yes, the play!” Poppy's brows knotted. “Ummm... I forgot. Branch and I were going to...um...”

“I'm sorry, where are my manners.”  Creek addressed the raven-haired boy. “Poppy's ‘guy she knows’, would you be interested in joining us?”

Branch's jaw fell so hard it could have smashed that hippie's ugly toes.  After all that shit?  Did they honestly expect a different reaction?

“You can't be fucking serious!”

“Just spreading a little positive energy.” Creek assured calmly with a smug grin. “You know, little positivity wouldn't hurt you.”  His hand reached out to playfully bump the boy's arm.

“I might hurt you if you fuckin touch me.” Branch growled.

“Of course,” Creek cooed, retracting his arm back to his side. “I wouldn't dream of touching someone without their permission....” Branch's eyes narrowed.

“Might catch what you have and die,” Creek grumbled under his breath.

Like dropping a balloon of gasoline into a pit of flames--his restraint exploded with blinding rage.

“FUCK YOU!"

“What??”  Poppy uttered, still trying to keep up with the intimidating exchange

“I'm done!” Branch gnashed his teeth and glared at Creek.

“Please Branch..he-he didn't know....” Poppy pleaded. Creek's anger suddenly dissipated, realizing he may have crossed a line--leaving him slightly shocked over his own behavior.

“Look, mate,” Creek sighed.  “I-I think we got off on the wrong foot. Maybe we could just--”

“Forget it, hippie!”  Branch flared. “No shirt, no shoes, no service and I'm done listening to your shit!” Branch quickly gestured to the girl.  “See you later, Poppy.” Branch stuffed his fists into his front pockets and stamped away down the gravel sprinkled lane. Ducks, calmly napping in the sun, scuffled and quacked as they scattered out of the boy's path.

“Branch?”  The girl called out after him. Andmisty, red-seared blue eyes glanced over his shoulder.

“See you tomorrow?” Poppy smiled hopefully. Branch chewed at his inner cheek. Then, after a moment, he nodded--his dark hair flopping over his eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured and continued walking.

“Well, he's full of personality isn't he...” Creek mused with an air of bitterness. Poppy turned to the tall boy--her focus like fired steal.

“You certainly weren't an innocent bystander to that,” she accused. “What the flying kitty balls was happening between you too?!”

“Prick came at me right off the bat,” Creek sneered, tossing a gesturing hand toward Branch. “His negative vibrations are toxic.” Poppy stared, confused. After a few moments, her frustration broke and she snickered.

“He's not the only one,” Poppy teased, lightly pinching Creek's perfectly tanned cheek. The teal-haired boy relaxed back into his usual peaceful expression.

“I don't know,” he shrugged. “Guy doesn't seem all that bad honestly, but I feel him crawling under my skin when he speaks.  Maybe our chakras are at opposite ends of the spectrum and we are somehow destined to be at odds.”

“Is that really a thing?” Poppy smirked, clearly doubting the guru. Creek chuckled.

“Who knows. But it doesn't really matter what I think.” Creek tilted his view to meet the girl's face.

“What are you getting yourself into with this boy, Poppy?” Creek inquired with an air of concern. Poppy turned and gazed sadly at the subject of conversation who was shuffling his way further down the path--roughly kicking at stones and mumbling harshly to himself.

“He's missing his inner rainbow, Creek,” she said dismally. Creek eyed her with a knowing grin.

“And you think you can deliver it to him on a silver platter?” Poppy said nothing. Creek affectionately rubbed the length of her arms.  His warmth was comforting in the cold moment.

“I know what you're thinking Poppy,” he whispered, wisps of pink strands shifting with his breath. “But you need to know that some people...just don't want to be happy.” Poppy's lips pouted and a knot tightened in her stomach at such a thought.

“I guess,” her voice drifted, still watching the boy's retreating figure. Creek gently turned the girl and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a supportive hug.

“Your heart is too big for your own good, love.” Creek kissed her forehead tenderly. “Just trying to protect my best girl."

“I know,” Poppy smiled, “and I love you for that.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“ _Hello Darkness my old friend.....”_

Music shattered the silence of the night.

“ _I've come to talk with you again...”_

Branch rolled over in his bed--groaning loudly.  He pulled at the blankets, trying to find the damn phone buried in his sheets.  

“ _Because a vision softly creeping”_

“I've got to change my ringtone...” he grumbled. Branch looked at the clock on his nightstand and blinked the numbers into focus.

_4:36 am?!  What the fuck is wrong with people?!_

A few moments later, the boy located his phone and pushed the button.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled into the receiver.

“Good morning, sunshine,” sang a sweet voice on the end of the line. Branch felt even more pissed than if it had been a wrong number.

“Poppy?! Fuck! You have any idea what fuckin time it is?!”

“Sure--  Why?  Don't you?  You should really keep a clock by your bed, Bud.” Branch glared menacingly with near homicidal intention, even if Poppy couldn't see it.

“Why the hell are you calling?!"

“Needed to talk to you,” she giggled. “ What'cha doin'?”

“I'm bingeing on chocolate ice cream--a whole tub of it!”

“What?!” the girl gasped.

“I'm being sarcastic, Poppy.”

  
“Oh,” she muttered, slightly embarrassed.

“I'm really eating a bowl of sugar butter,” Branch grumbled, picking the crusty sleep from his eye.

“Seriously?”

“No. That would be disgusting,” he deadpanned. Poppy squinted, trying to decide if the boy was still being sarcastic.

“Wait!”  Branch's eyes popped open like turkey timer. “Where did you get my number!?”

“From your chart,” she replied innocently.

“I knew it!  You ARE stalking me!” he hollered.

“It's just this once, and I promise I'll never use it again.”

Branch groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What. Do. You Want?!"

“I wanted to tell you that I've decided to help you,” she smiled into the phone. Branch released his nose and cocked an eyebrow.

“Help me with what?”

“Your issue,” she stated plainly as if it were obvious.

“I have a lot of issues, Muppet. You have to be more specific,” he yawned.

“Your happiness issue.  I think you are so grumpy all the time, because you've forgotten how to see beauty in the world. You need a big shot in the ass of rainbow and I'm gonna give it you!”

_Silence._

“That didn't sound so weird when I said it in my head,” she mumbled.

“Poppy, you _really_ don't need to do that,” Branch squirmed, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Too late! I've already decided and it's already planned,” her voice ringing with pride and excitement.

 _Fuck_.

“And, seriously, this couldn't have waited until a more appropriate hour?” the boy, asked--severely irritated even by his standards.

“Why, were you sleeping?”

“Yes!”

“I thought you didn't sleep well at night.” she stated flatly. Branch grunted.

“I'm having an off day.”

“Well, you're awake now! So—what do ya say, Branch?” Hope hovered in the girl's voice. Branch rubbed his face--sleep still itching at his skin.  The boy internally weighed his options.

“So if I don't fight you on this, you'll leave me alone on the subject?"

“Cross my heart!” The girl paused, waiting a response. Branch tried to think of an acceptable way to decline the offer, but found he was too tired to focus.

“I really am crossing my heart, you know,” she whispered into the receiver. “You just can't see it because we're on the phone.” Branch exhaled a tired moan and combed his fingers through his matted, greasy tangles.

“What do I have to do?”

Poppy squealed into the phone and Branch winced at the piercing sound.

“I want to show you something!” Her words were spilling out with enthusiasm. “I'm off at 1 today, and we can leave after that!” Branch smirked.

“Sorry, can't. I've got treatment until 4 today, Poppy.”

“Oh, that's the real reason I'm calling. Are you dressed?” she inquired sweetly.

Branch glanced down. He had no shirt and his boxers were more than a little revealing in his current position. He quickly readjusted the fabric for modesty sake and pulled the bed sheets over his lap. Branch gulped, crimson blooming across his face.

“W-why?” his voice unintentionally an octave higher than usual.

“We've had a cancellation in our first shift. You can come in, fill the chair, and be done by noon!” Poppy bubbled with anticipation.

_Shit._

Branch considered saying no, but Poppy had his number now and he didn't want to give her another reason to use it.

“I'll be there in an hour.” he mumbled. Another high-pitched scream screeched through the speaker and Branch couldn't pull the phone from his ear fast enough.

“Shit, Poppy! Stop doing that!” he snapped. “Ya know what?! Forget it! I take it back—I'm not doing this!”

“Too late! You already agreed! See you soon!” she sang. Branch frowned, suddenly anxious of what he had just got himself into.

“Oh! And, Branch?”

“Yeah?” the boy asked nervously, scratching his leg through his blue cotton sheets.

“Afterward? You and Me? We're gonna hunt ourselves some rainbows!”

The line clicked. Branch held the phone for a moment until he was sure Poppy had hung up then tossed the device onto the bedside table. The boy sat quietly on his bed, staring at the floor, and waiting for his mind to sweep away the last of his dreamy fog. Crickets chirped outside his apartment. The chilly night air breezing through the open window was heavy with the promise of rain. Branch found its cool brush soothing on his bare skin. The boy glanced back at his phone—the conversation now clear in his head. Branch groaned and fell back into his pillow with an exhausted flop.

_Fuck._

 

 


	9. Sunsets and Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's add a little fluff! Thanks again to theobsessedmoose for helping me with editing this chapter! Love you girl! I hope you all enjoy it!

It was Poppy's turn to file the lab results that day. With quick fingers, she pulled the obsolete sheets from the charts one by one and clicked the current ones into place. The girl's mind wandered to the event she had planned for the evening after the completion of her shift. Her blood rushed with anticipation as she imagined the smells, the sights, the...the boy. Excitement welled in her chest and a new stream of thoughts billowed in.

_The lop-sided curve of smile...the deep crystal blue of his eyes... the earthy scent of his skin…_

Poppy's cheeks ran scarlet. The deep focus on these images carried her through her monotonous task rapidly, but rendered the girl oblivious to approaching company.

A hand touched her shoulder. Poppy yelped and spun around to find herself face-to-face with her favorite nurse.

“Oh, Smidge--you startled me!” Poppy blurted with relief.

Cathy silent nudged a nearby employee to leave the area.

“We need to talk, Muppet,” she informed the girl quietly.

“Ya, no problem! Let me finish this one quick.” Poppy flustered and hastily switched the papers of the open chart. She snapped the binder closed and shoved it back into the patient's assigned slot. The girl then turned to her coworker with a satisfied smile.

“What's up?' Poppy grinned. Cathy was fidgeting, milling her fingers together and clicking her teeth. She looked nervous. Cathy never looked nervous. Poppy's grin flattened. “What?”

“Are you seeing Branch outside of work?” Cathy asked, eyeing the pink haired with a mix suspicion and concern. Poppy scrunched her nose and her heartbeat now raced for a different reason.

“Where did you hear that?”

“A little bird with a big fat mouth told me.” Cathy snapped. “Is it true?”

“It's not... entirely all false...” Poppy responded, her voice sheepish and apprehensive. Cathy's brows touched her blue-streaked hairline.

“Which part?”

“All of it,” Poppy mumbled. Cathy's lips pulled to a firm line.

“Poppy, you could get in trouble for this, did you know that?” Cathy hissed. “Maintaining professionalism is part of your licensure. Crossing that nurse/patient barrier is risky if you want to stay employed.” Cathy cocked an eyebrow. “Is he threatening you?”

“Wha-what?! No! We're just...just...”

“Friends?” Cathy inquired sarcastically.” Poppy frowned. “You can't be _friends_ with your patients, Poppy.”

“But, he's NOT my patient, Smidge, and we're not exactly friends. Geez-I don't even interact with him while he's here!” Poppy was unaware her volume was unintentionally escalating with each word. Cathy's nervous eyes darted around the room and she quickly gestured to the ruffled girl to lower her voice.

“Not everyone is going to make that distinction, hon.” she hushed. “You'd be better off just staying away from him. It's not worth it.” Cathy turned to leave, thinking that was the end of the discussion, but Poppy disagreed.

“Smidge, please,” the girl grabbed her coworker's hand, squeezing her short fingers, almost in desperation. “He really doesn't have anyone, and…-”  Poppy licked her lips, striving for the words that could justify the situation, “-I think I can help him, Smidge. I think...I think he really needs this...” Cathy's blue eyes softened with the girl's boundless optimism.

“He needs _this?”_ Cathy questioned seriously in a whispered tone. “or _you_?” Poppy's eyes widened and she blinked blankly at her coworker until the question sank in. The girl dropped her chin, blushed, and returned a guilt-ridden gaze.

Cathy studied the sincerity in Poppy's face. She could read the answer in the girl's eyes without her saying a word. Cathy turned her focus to the station across the room. The grumpy raven-haired boy was curled up comfortably in his chair. He looked... small; helpless. Cathy knew as well as Poppy how alone the boy was. That blue-eyed pain in the ass was a hard nut, but if anyone could crack that shell, it would be the bouncy embodiment of bottled-up sunshine standing in front of her. Cathy puffed, defeated, and met the girl's eyes.

“Don't talk to people about this, okay? And DON'T call him at home from the nurses' station where people can hear you. If you get caught-” Cathy pointed a finger in Poppy's face, poking her nose, “-I will deny knowing anything about the matter. You hear me, Muppet?”

Poppy squealed, and threw her arms around her friend.

“Ya, ya—shut up and get back to work,” Cathy grumbled, pulling the entangled fingers from around her neck and returned to her assigned area.

Confidence surging, Poppy returned to her task as well. Sheet by sheet, the stack of lab results dwindled. Several more papers into the heap, Poppy came across a familiar name: _Branch, R._

Quickly, as with the others, she ripped the old one from the chart, inserting the more recent in its place. But, before Poppy shoved the obsolete paper into the recycling bin, she paused. After checking over her shoulder, she privately held the papers side by side and compared the numbers.

 _Phosphorus decreased by 0.8mg/dL._ _Total Protein increased by 0.5g/dL._

Poppy smiled and proudly looked to the dark-haired boy laying in his recliner. Branch's knees were pulled up toward his chest and his head was tucked tightly between scrunched shoulders. His blue eyes were closed and a blanket was draped messily around his body. The boy was snuggling into his large, blue pillow like a toddler with his teddy bear. Branch's face was serene, careless to the disorder around him or within. Poppy could barely hear the soft snores leaking into the air from his parted and pouting lips. After a slumbering stretch, the boy's nose nuzzled deeper into the comforting puffiness.

Poppy's stomach tingled and her heart skipped. She stood silently, watching him breath--captured in the moment. Suddenly, Poppy was hit with a bolt of inspiration and grabbed a piece of paper from the printer. After burrowing through her pocket for a black pen, the girl sat down and began to sketch.

  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A pink Ford Focus trailed the winding dirt road through the tree-covered hills. The couple that resided within bickered as the miles passed.

“So, are you going to tell me where we're going?” Branch inquired for the twentieth time that hour, as he toggled the automatic window switch.

“No—it's a surprise,” Poppy bubbled, barely able to contain her excitement. Branch looked out his window and groaned boorishly.

“It's been two and a half hours Poppy,” the impatient boy whined. “How far is this place?!” Poppy smiled mischievously, finding not-so-secret enjoyment in Branch's thriving restlessness.

“Not far,” she aloofly replied. Branch stared at the girl, waiting for her to elaborate, but she never did. Pouting, the boy sank further into his seat and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

“We're lost,” he grumbled hopelessly.

“We're not lost,” Poppy laughed. “I grew up around here. In fact, the place I'm taking you? Creek and I discovered it when we were about 7 years old.” Branch shifted awkwardly in his seat and hard scowl invaded his features.

“Well,” Branch mumbled under his breath. “Isn't Creep just fabulous...” Poppy glanced at her dark-haired passenger, annoyed with the under-handed remark.

“I don't know what your problem is with him,” the girl started defend, “Most people who meet Creek find him to be a very enlightened and delightful person.”

“Those people should up their medication,” Branch growled. Poppy scrunched her nose.

“That's not funny, Branch,” her voice stern. “You shouldn't say things like that.”

“ _Sooo sorry_ ,” he grumbled sarcastically, returning his attention to the vegetation flashing past his window. Poppy eyed the boy, unsatisfied with his apology.

Suddenly, the steering wheel spun and the tires skidded and slipped, frantically seeking traction on the loose dirt. Branch threw his arms out in front of him, grabbing the dash as the momentum slammed him into the passenger door.

“Holy Fuck!!” He screamed.

The small car spiraled over the road and dust exploded into the air. Flying rocks hammered under the base. The vehicle completed its 180 twist and came to a sudden and complete stop.

Poppy turned to view the boy next to her. Branch's jaw was hung wide and he was gasping erratically-- and clutching his heart.

“Ooops!” The girl mused childishly. “Almost missed our stop.” Poppy casually shifted into park, removed the key, and undid her seat belt.

After realizing he was, indeed, still alive, Branch glared coldly at the girl in the drivers seat. Flashing a smirk toward the fuming boy, Poppy opened her door and stepped out onto the deserted gravel road. She turned and leaned in through the open window.

“We're here,” she smiled innocently. Branch unclicked his own belt and pulled himself from the car.

“You were trying to kill me!” He snapped, slamming the door behind him.

“You shouldn't distract the driver with your insensitive attitude.” Poppy's smile widened, taking emense pleasure in the boy's reaction. “Besides, if I were going to kill you, I'd be sure to bring you to a secluded location first to make it easier to dispose of the body.” Branch eyed his surroundings. He saw nothing but hills of towering trees--not a soul or building in site. His twitching ears couldn't pick up the sound of a single rushing vehicle. The boy gulped.

_Shit! First she stalks me and now I've been kidnapped!_

Branch's bulging eyes shot back to the pink-haired girl who was casually digging inside the popped trunk of her car.

“W-w-what are you doing?” His voice trembled--fearing he had drastically misjudged the situation.

“Grabbing a shovel...” Poppy replied offhandedly, not meeting his eyes. Branch turned white and took a stumbling step backward—panic surging.

_Fuck!!_

The girl giggled.

“I'm kidding, Branch.” Poppy reassured as she pulled a fluffy, patchwork quilt from the compartment and closed the trunk. She tossed it to Branch and the discombobulated boy caught it—his cheeks now overflowing with color.

After grabbing a small tote bag from her back seat and hooking it over her shoulder, Poppy strolled up to the boy and leaned close to his face. Branch's eyes grew wide. The proximity of her lips to his was more frightening than the threat of his body never being found. Smugness coated the girl's sly expression.

“Follow me,” She grinned.

  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The overgrown dirt trail had lead them past campgrounds, over streams, and through stone block tunnels. They were now steadily climbing a make-shift railroad tie staircase anchored in the dirt. The platforms were covered in scattered acorns that rolled beneath their feet with every step.

_Someone really needs to keep this path clear so a pedestrian doesn't break their neck._

“Poppy—we've been climbing and walking this fuckin path for at least 3 hours. Just kill me now and get it over with, will ya?!” Branch groaned between labored breaths.

“Smart ass,” snickered Poppy and she kept up her pace.

Though safeguarded from the sun under the broad-leafed trees, the humidity and heat were taking their toll on the anemic boy. Branch readjusted the heavy quilt on his shoulder. He was exhausted and the pounding of his heart intensified with each 6-inch upward climb.

“Can...” Branch gasped for air. “Can we stop and rest for a minute?”

“It's just a little further, Branch, you need to get out more,” encouraged the pink-haired girl as she skipped up the stairs. Branch rolled his eyes,

“Can...whew! Can you at least tell me w-where we're going?” He puffed. Poppy turned to see the boy behind her. Branch's face was flushed, and moisture glued stray black hairs to his sweaty brow.

“Up,” she smiled.

“Ya know, you can be a smart ass yourself sometimes,” He growled, chugging his way up the hill.

“Guess it's rubbing off,” Poppy replied cynically.

Five minutes later, they had reached the top. The trees opened, revealing a large and open grassy hilltop. The couple stopped when they arrived at a particularly comfy looking tuft of grass against the slope.

Poppy pulled the blanket off Branch's shoulder and spread it over the ground. Branch's knees practically gave out and he quickly plopped his ass down on the fluffy quilt. The girl reached into her tote bag and after a few seconds of digging, removed two bottles of water. She offered one to her companion and he snatched it gratefully.

“Thanks,” He chuffed, unscrewing the lid as Poppy settled down beside him.

Branch tipped the water to his lips. The evening light refracted in the bottle--flashing and sparkling in the swirling fluid. His profile was lit from behind. The low sunlight tipped the mischievous locks of carefree charcoal hair in a golden glow.

It was clear he hadn't shaved today and the slight stubble shadowed his jaw and around his lips--accenting his baby-fat padded masculine design. His neck was stretched long and slim as he drank. The apple of his throat bounced up and down with each swallow and his sweat shimmered with the movement. Blue eyes closed, hidden under thick, dark lashes. His face relaxed, enjoying the simple bliss of cool water running over his tongue. He was quite a pretty boy.

“Remember to go easy on the water there, Branch,” Poppy teased. The boy pulled the bottle from his lips, panting.

“I'm sweating, I need it,” He gasped, wiping the over-spill from his mouth with his forearm. Poppy snickered softly as took in a few sips of her own.

After quenching his thirst, the boy turned his attention to the view before him.

_Wow._

The rolling green hills stretched out for miles before them--the city lights hidden between their crevices.

A single church peak glowed like a lone beacon on the furthest hill. In the dead center of their view point, framed by oak trees, a magnificent golden sun slowly descended to its nocturnal bed. The sky was morphing to shades of orange, fuchsia and violet and the colors reflected off scattered silver clouds that spanned across the horizon. Cicadas buzzed in the nearby trees and the east wind was fresh on their faces. Branch had to admit, this was pretty.

“It's one of my favorite spots,” She whispered. also captivated by the visual display.

“Hmmm,” Branch responded softly. “I can see why.” Poppy turned and pointed toward the neighboring hill where a cluster of old homes were nestled.

“I grew up right over there, second house down. I used to walk my cat-”

“You walked your cat?” Branch cut in. “ L-like... on a leash?”

“Yes, on a leash.” Poppy snickered. “There's a leash law you know.”

Branch rolled his eyes. _Weird._

“Anyway,” the girl continued, brushing off the interruption. “Every evening in the summer, I would walk Fuzzbert across the ridge and sit down right at this spot to watch the sun set.”

With the image playing in his head, Branch was hit with a sudden realization that immediately pissed him off.

“Ummm...Poppy?” Branch growled as he caught a glimpse of the paved road leading to the old houses. “Why didn't we just park on that road and walk over?”

Poppy smiled.

“Because it's a pretty hike and the exercise is good for you,” she replied without missing a beat.

Branch huffed, feeling his limited patience with the girl wearing thin. The growing tension was not subtle to Poppy's.

“Yeah, okay. Sorry about that, bud,” Poppy sighed with a shrug. “It's just that...sometimes you appreciate the end result just a bit more when you have to struggle a little to reach it.”

Branch turned back toward the setting sun, still irritated with her bullshit response. Poppy chuckled.

“But, I'll admit, the look on your face when you thought I was going to murder you and bury your body was pretty funny too,” She laughed.

Branch scoffed, internally promising himself that he'll return the favor some day.

“But,” The girl hummed. “The view isn't my favorite part about this place.”

“Oh?” The boy mumbled. “What is?”

Grinning, Poppy pointed high, above her head, “This.”

Branch looked up and his jaw dropped.

Millions of puffy, white fluffs danced across the color changing sky-- spinning and falling like gentle snowflakes above the earth. They floated in small, soft patterns, drifting wherever the lazy breeze took them. A single piece of downy fuzz brushed across Branch's cheek and he grabbed it. The feathery form was soft like spun silk and as delicate as a dandelion parasol.

“What the...” Branch gasped and looked higher. The small wisps of cotton filled the air. Pillowy tufts gliding and tumbling through the developing atmosphere. They were everywhere!

“It...it looks like it's snowing....” He whispered--completely baffled by what he was seeing.

“Cottonwoods.” Poppy stated matter-of-factly but with a slight softness in her tone as if the word touched a forgotten memory.

Branch raised an eyebrow, not grasping the full meaning of her answer. Poppy tilted her head and a smile pushed at the glittery apples of her cheeks. She pointed to the far end of the park where rows and rows of large trees stood proud. Their silver bark shimmered beneath the rustling white and brown sided leaves.

“Cottonwoods,” Poppy repeated. “Every year, for about a week, their pods open and these fluffy seeds are released into the air.  This time each year, it snows.” Poppy looked up to the sky and a white plume kissed her nose. Poppy laughed to herself.

“My dad hates this part of the season. He would have to blast off the air conditioner daily with the hose because those damn fluffer-puffs (as he called them) would cover it like a fur coat.” Branch listened at his leisure as he continued to gaze above him-- finding the silent symphony mesmerizing. “The layers,” Poppy continued, “would roll off like mats of wet dog hair and it would take me an hour to pick them off from around the base.” Poppy winced when she recalled the slimy sensation between her fingers.

“So” Branch mumbled quietly, still unable to take his eyes off the enchanting display, “Where exactly are we?”

“See those water towers?” Poppy asked, pointing to the large, concrete cylinders on the adjoining hill. “That's the highest point in the whole state. I've watched the sunset from up there a few times, but you get in pretty big trouble if you get caught.” Branch grinned at the thought of Poppy explaining to the cops that she had only trespassed in order to better enjoy the sunset.

“This is Grandview Park, and from here, you can see almost the entire city. Look,” Poppy pointed down the slope. “You can even see the rose garden...”

Branch followed her direction and squinted into the distance. He could just make out tiny dots of color scattered around a curving white arbor that peaked out through the trees at the base of the hill.

“I love that garden.” Poppy's nostalgia rambled the minutes away. “I would spend hours walking the rows and smelling the flowers. They all smell different, did you know?”

Branch didn't answer. He didn't interrupt. He just listened to her voice reverberate softly in the air. The sound was as sweet and entrancing as the setting in front of him.

“They have a rose, I wish I knew name of it. It's petals are white, but, if you look close enough, you can see light hues of pinks and blues and yellows...” Poppy's tired grin melted as exhaustion began to envelop her. “It's just like a rainbow. It's beautiful. I'll show it to you sometime...” The pink-haired girl stretched her back and sighed. Unable to hold her drooping head any longer, she rested it against the boy's shoulder, which stiffened at the unexpected pressure.

“But not tonight...” She trailed off.

  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next hour, the two sat quietly on the hill and watched the glowing sky. Last bit of gold was dipping behind the horizon. Stars lit in the heavens one by one. Tiny flickers of flame grew brighter as the deep midnight blues and rich violets bloomed down toward the hills from above. The side of Poppy's head nuzzled against his shoulder.

“It's beautiful, huh?” she asked. Branch grunted in response, quietly appreciating the view and the company.

“Whatever happens in my day, I can always count on the sunset. It's like the earth is smiling one more time and reminding me that things will be better tomorrow.”

Branch shook his head. There was no end to Poppy's sweet rambling.

“And each one is different,” She continued. “Each one is special, Branch. Sometimes there are clouds, and sometimes there is rain. That just makes the colors and design more dynamic. And even when things are really bad and the sky is gray and stormy, it doesn't mean the sunset isn't there. You just have to look past it and see that it's still with you and just as beautiful as the ones that have come before.”

_Well, isn't Poppy a damn book of metaphors._

“I think you're a bit of a poet yourself,” Branch chuckled. Poppy giggled, her eyes sparkling in the last rays of daylight.

“You think so?” She yawned. The boy nodded gently.

“Yeah.”

Poppy sighed. Then heat from the boy was relaxing and the stress of the day dissolved effortlessly to divine contentment. The girl yawned again and snuggled against the boy's arm.

“Are you tired?” Branch asked sheepishly as anxiety rose in his throat.

“Yeah,” Poppy's words were drowsy. “I was up at 4:30 this morning.” Branch chuckled.

“Me too. I wonder why,” he smirked sarcastically.

Poppy's head angled to look up at him. Half-lidded orbs blinked lazily into his and she grinned. Branch relaxed into the girl's sleepy gold-kissed brown eyes. Poppy giggled softly and turned back to the darkening landscape.

“I have no idea,” She simpered. The boy's shoulder was warm to her cheek and solid, yet fitting to her face. It was comfortable. Poppy inhaled deeply, settling into the soothing sensation and closed her eyes.

 

Time passed and the evening sounds stilled under invading cloak of night. Branch adjusted his position and could feel Poppy's head was limp against his shoulder. He bent his neck to gaze at the slumbering girl. Her pink hair was like a strawberry waterfall on her shoulders that smelled as he imagined it would. A floating fluff danced past them and latched onto the girl's bubblegum locks, just above her forehead.

Slowly, Branch hesitantly reached for the puffball and gently pulled it away. Her eyelashes flickered, but she didn't wake. Raspberry stands clung to the cotton that released one by one until it at last surrendered its hold. The boy flicked the soft plume, freeing it to move on with its travels. As it was carried into the sky, Branch found he couldn't muster the will to lower his arm. He tenderly watched Poppy as she slept. The fading glow of the sky illuminated half of her face. His chest tightened and his galloping beat hammered within his ears. Branch internally battled the overwhelming desire to touch the girl.

Poppy sighed contently in her sleep and his discipline crumbled. The anxious boy nervously lowered his hand to her skin but stopped just before contact. His arm moved slowly as his fingertips traced down the delicate curves of her face.  The heat of her body radiated against his palm. The glitter on her eyelids and cheeks were like stars, twinkling with each rise and fall of her chest. He could not help himself but to stare and her resting mind was temporarily allowing him the freedom to do so. Even the way her nostrils slightly dilated when she exhaled was hypnotizing.

Her mouth twitched into flickering smiles as she dreamed.  He could live a lifetime in that moment simply studying her enchanting features. The gloss had worn off hours ago. Her lips were smooth, supple, and their natural peach luster reflected the last of the dying light. The impulse to experience her vulnerable lower lip was overpowering. Poppy shivered. Readjusting his balance, Branch lifted his arm from the ground and reached around the girl's shoulder. Her head tipped slightly to the position change and the side of her face now lay against his chest.  Branch was certain the sound of his pounding heart would wake the girl. Her candied breath danced and tickled over the boy's neck.

Branch's face flushed bright red and his torso was burning from the intimate contact. As the seconds passed, she still didn't wake.  The final sliver of sunlight had vanished and the moon was now hung high in its rightful place.  

  


Branch held onto the pleasurable, but maddening position for another forty minutes before he began to worry about the late hour. It was so dark now and the air was turning cold. It was time to leave.  Branch softly tousled the girl's shoulder in attempt to rouse the sleeping princess.  After a few more forceful movements and his soft voice calling her name, the girl's auburn eyes cracked open.  When she finally took notice of their position, Poppy instinctively jumped away from the boy which caused Branch to do the same.  After a few awkward moments to adjust, the couple uprooted themselves from the ground.

Branch lifted the blanket from the grass and snapped it into the air. Tiny bits of cotton flipped back into the diamond sky to continue their journey.  Without thinking, Branch wrapped the warm blanket over the girl's shoulders.  The boy's trembling hands lingered on her arms, pressing the fabric securely against her. Branch's timid smile stoked the small fire in Poppy's belly.

“Thank you,” She whispered as she stroked a pink lock behind her ear and stepped closer to his radiating heat. The boy's arms quickly pulled away.

“You're welcome,” He mumbled. After grabbing the tote bag from the ground, the couple walked back toward the trail.

When they reached the tree line, Poppy hesitated.  Dark shadows and looming branches created an intimidating shadow that engulfed the not so well-worn path.

“Wow, it sure is dark,” Poppy muttered, growing increasingly nervous as images of lions, tigers, and bears filled her mind.

There was a muffled rustle next to her, and Poppy could see the faint outline of Branch digging into his back pocket.  The jingle that followed told her he had pulled out a ring of keys.  Lifting them toward the light of the moon, the boy riffled through his collection until he found what he was searching for.  A fluorescent beam suddenly illuminated poppy's face and she squinted.

Branch aimed the light at himself—bobbing his brows in a teasing manner while clicking the light on and off for dramatic effect.

“Always prepared...” He smirked. Poppy grinned—enjoying the boy's rare humor.

“More like crazy prepared,” She smiled, poking the Branch's broad nose.

“Pretty crazy wonderful, you mean...” Branch beamed and Poppy giggled.

“You definitely are pretty...” She whispered fondly, her filter on standby.  The girl's own words registered in her ears and Poppy's eyes grew wide to match Branch's.

_Shit._

“I mean-- ummm...” Poppy stammered. Branch lowered the light so Poppy couldn't see the red flooding his cheeks. The boy cleared his throat and the couple darted their eyes to the scenery--neither of them taking notice that it was too dark to see anything around them anyway.

“W-Well, we'd better get going,” Branch choked out, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.  With a quick nod, the girl was by his side and the couple headed down the path toward Poppy's car.

  


\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  


When Branch arrived home, he collapsed onto the couch. There was a heat in his belly. The more he thought about the last few hours, the more it grew, warming every corner from the tips of his ears to the ends of his toes that stretched within his worn out sneakers. The quivering sensation was restless but strangely pleasurable. It was...exciting.  The overwhelming emotion was almost too troublesome to savor.

With a deep breath to calm his nerves, Branch grabbed his green, denim backpack from the floor and carelessly tossed it onto the corner cushion. After unbuckling the brown leather straps, the boy flipped open the flap and began to empty the contents.

Almost immediately, a piece of paper caught his attention. It was folded over once, but the trim edges clearly stuck out from between the school books that it had been carefully tucked between. Cautiously he pulled the sheet out and unfolded it. Branch recognized it at once.

The lines were clean and smooth. Black pen accented with blue highlighter. It was a sketch of him, sleeping in his dialysis chair. The artist was clearly talented. A grin formed when he read was simple signature in the bottom right corner

“ _Poppy.”_

Branch's smile widened as he continued further. Just below the name, in small lettering framed in parentheses.

_(you owe me a poem)_

Branch couldn't help but laugh to himself. After grabbing the notebook from his backpack, the boy cozied into his seat and began to write.

  


 

  
  



	10. Dance In The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more fluff here. Be on the look out for Easter eggs from some of your favorite Trolls stories and head cannons! Have fun! Thanks again to Moose for helping with editing so my chapters are some-what legible. (I have to stop doing these longer chapters--they're gonna kill me!)

A cool spring breeze blew through the delicate, lace curtains and glitter sparkled in the lilac painted walls of her bedroom.  A couple laid comfortably on their backs against the  mattress, scrolling and laughing through the photos on Poppy's phone that she had taken earlier that week.

“And here is Branch, sulking in the car on our trip to Grandview.” She smiled.  “He was pretty ticked I didn't warn him about the long drive,” Poppy rubbed her flushed cheek with her palm. “Or the long walk...” Creek whipped his head to look at his companion and gasped.

“You didn't?!” He screeched, staring at the girl with wide eyes.

“I totally did,” Poppy laughed.  “Took us almost 3 hours to get there!”

“You are evil!” The lavender-eyed boy shook his head disapprovingly.

Poppy doubled over on the bed, her hands pushing against her seizing, quivering abdomen.  “You-You should have seen his face when he realized that the main road was only a few hundred feet away!” she chortled hysterically, recalling the image.

“Love, you are a constant reminder for me to stay on your good side,” Creek snuggled close, wrapping his arms around the pink-haired girl. Poppy relaxed into the warm hug and sighed.  

“I'm not _that_ evil.  I lead him down the short cut on the way back and it only took us 30 minutes to get to my car.” The tall boy chuckled against her cheek and unfolded his limbs from her body.  

“Well then, I guess your karma has been somewhat salvaged,” he teased. Poppy giggled.  

“Thanks for the confidence boost.”  She looked at the picturesque boy who was thumbing back through the still-frames on her phone. “He sure doesn't like you though,” she grumbled. “I'm not sure what his problem is.”

“I could venture a guess,” Creek snickered to himself. Poppy halfheartedly punched the boy's shoulder.

“Shut up,” She laughed. Poppy looked up at the glow-in the dark stars pasted to her ceiling, remembering the magic in the sky that night.  “I've never seen so many cottonwood seeds, Creek,” she continued, whispering more to herself than to the boy at her side. “It was beautiful.”

Creek rolled toward the girl, propping his head up on his arm and examined her smiling eyes which were still caught in that night on the hill top.

“Sounds dreamy,” Creek commented, with a bit of concern.

“It's not like that,” Poppy met his eyes and flustered. “He seems like he needs a friend and I feel like we've taken a step forward.”

“What about Smidge?” Creek offered. “She can put up with anyone's bullshit.” Poppy smiled wide.

“You bet your tushy she can. But she actually _is_ his nurse, so that would be even _more_ wrong than what I'm doing.” Poppy glanced hopefully back at the boy. “See what I'm saying?”

“Okay.” Creek cocked his head, trying to be supportive. “But he's a big boy, Poppy. I'm sure he is capable of finding his own friends.” Poppy released a hopeless sigh.

“You've met him, Creek. He really isn't.”

“Still,” The tall boy retorted. “He doesn't have to be chasing after nurses at his clinic. I mean, what do you even know this about this guy?”

“Honestly, not a lot,” She shrugged. “I'm sorta learning as I go.”  

“And it doesn't hurt that you have a hot teacher...” Poppy looked at the boy next to her and Creek smiled knowingly.

“No! N- No!  That not- Not what I meant Creek!” She flustered. Creek chuckled.  

“Sure it's not. I can see he's not a bad looking guy.” Creek squirmed as Poppy elbowed him playfully but the boy couldn't help pushing it further.  “That makes you the sexy co-ed!” He teased.

Poppy jabbed her fingers into Creek's ticklish belly.  He laughed and grabbed her hand. Holding it firmly in his own, Creek partially rolled his body on top of the girl to pin her down.  “Not to mention he plays directly into your weeping heart strings that want nothing more than to rescue a hurt puppy...”

Poppy tried to glare at Creek, but she ended up looking like a pouting child. Creek laughed harder.

“You really suck at glaring Poppy!”

Grumbling under her breath and with a mischievous grin on her flaming face, Poppy tried her hardest to shove the boy off of her and over the edge of the bed.  Creek quickly snapped back, stroking his hand over her soft hair until it came to rest at the base of her neck.  He pulled her in and pecked a kiss to her blushing cheek.

“Listen love, it's late and I've got to get going.” The teal-haired boy pushed himself from blankets. “I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can meet up? Get some ice cream?”

“Ice cream?...Sure.  I’d-I'd like that.” she hummed, clearly remembering the last time she had ice cream. The teal-haired boy paused.

“And Poppy?” He asked delicately.

“Yeah, sweetie? Poppy replied, repositioning herself comfortably over the sheets to fill the warm space that the boy's absence had left behind. Creek tugged his lips into a half grin.

“Promise me you'll be careful?”  Poppy looked up at the tall boy and was taken aback to catch a hint of desperation in his velvet expression.

“I don't want you snapping your heart strings over a boy who never wanted your help in the first place,” Creek explained, swallowing hard. “You are too precious to me.”

Poppy tried to reassure the boy, but her words were laced with an ache of uncertainty.  

“I will try,” She smiled.

Creek nodded, understanding that was the best she could give at the moment. He walked to the door.

“Creek?”  Poppy called out after him.  The boy paused and glistening, lavender eyes flashed over his shoulder.

“Thank you.” she stated sweetly. Creek smiled without smugness or judgment.

“I love you, Poppy.”

“I love you too,” She echoed, her heart warm and glowing. Creek retreated into the dark hallway and closed the door behind him, leaving Poppy alone to mull over the conversation.  Determination rose up and she stiffened her raspberry lips. After grabbing her glittery pink phone from the sheets, the girl's fingers flew and tongue flickered as she scrolled through her contacts. Punching at the buttons her brief but meaningful task was nearly complete.  

_New Message: Branch_

_“When can we meet?”_

Then, with a deep breath, assuring herself that she was making the right choice, Poppy pressed “ _Send_.”

 

 

Long, stiff reeds snagged at their clothing and tangles of fallen branches cluttered their assumed path. The tall, green shafts shifted to pressing hands and boggy mud caked heavier on their shoes with every step. The young couple forced themselves through the overgrown vegetation as they made their way along the riverbank.

“Huh,” Poppy mumbled, her confused eyes searching the sticks and grasses around her. “It's grown a lot thicker since I walked this path last,” she explained.

“Path?   _What_ path?!  There's _NO_ path, Poppy!”  Branch groaned, exacerbated.  “Now we really are lost!”

“Oh pish,” Poppy snapped back.  “I know exactly where we are.  It's not much further.”

She smiled at the brooding boy in tow. Branch growled a few choice words under his breath. The smell of rotting, fibrous refuge stung his his nose and the boy suppressed an urge to gag.  Small, spotted frogs leapt away from their feet as they pressed on.

“When you said we were going for another walk, I didn't think you meant through a putrid, swampy quagmire,” The boy grumbled, pushing a low lying branch out of the way.

“At least this one isn't three hours again,” Poppy teased. Branch's face hardened at the recollection of their last “adventure” three weeks ago.

“Better not be,” He scowled, stepping over a fallen log, trying to keep up with the Poppy and her limitless energy. “I need to be back by 6 in time for work.” Poppy spun her head so fast, her strawberry scented hair nearly whipped Branch across the face.

“Work?” Branch's smile was shy, but he couldn't hide a sense of relief and pride that glimmered in the sky of his eyes.

“Since I've been increasing my protein, I've had more energy over the last couple weeks and I..-.” Branch pressing smile twinged on his lips, the once unimaginable idea still thrilling. “-I got a job,” He breathed.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Th-that's great!” Poppy's impulsive arms reached for the boy before suddenly yanking her fists back to her chest. She settled for a friendly bump of the shoulder.

“That's really great,” She smiled sheepishly, trying to hold onto a shred of professionalism.

“Ya, well- it's at Burtness Theatre, at my college. I help build the sets and props and shit. The hours are flexible so I come in and work when I can. But they're also pretty understanding if I'm feeling too warn out and need a day off.”

“I'm happy for you, Branch,” Poppy smiled, her eyes sparkled at the boy's accomplishment, knowing she had been a part of it.  Branch beamed.  The couple continued along the riverbank for a few more minutes before Poppy suddenly stopped and gasped.

“Oh! Good! There it is!” Poppy skipped up the hill and came to stop at the mouth of a large drainage pipe.  It had to be a least 6 feet in diameter.  She stepped inside and turned to her companion. Wiggling her index finger, Poppy motioned for the hesitant boy to join her. Branch gawked. His eyes darting from the deep foreboding passage to the girl trembling with excitement at its cavernous opening.

“You CAN'T fucking be serious...”

“Serious as a puppy stuck in a storm drain!” she sang. Branch cocked an eyebrow to the pink-haired girl.  

“And we're going to be the puppies in this scenario?” The boy gasped. “I don't think so. People get killed doing that kind of shit!”  He hollered back, crossing his arms stubbornly. Poppy rolled her auburn eyes.

“Come on you paranoid, grump--here's nothing to worry about!” She promised. “I've done this a hundred times!”

“Forget it—you're insane! No way I'm following you in there!”

 

Five minutes later, Branch was stumbling through the pitch dark pipe behind Poppy. His fingers followed the curved walls as he inches his way deeper into the endless culvert. His sneakers were sloppy and soaked in the slow-running stream of runoff water that was making its way to the river.

“Boy, we sure could use a flashlight...” Branch over-enunciated sarcastically. Poppy's groan echoed down the walls.  

“Hmmm... I wonder where it could be?” He called loudly to the girl only feet in front of him. “Oh ya!  It's BACK IN THE CAR because you told me to leave them there with my phone!”

“Shut up, Branch, we're going to be fine,” Poppy snapped.  Branch growled.  Suddenly he stepped on a slick spot and slammed into the concrete wall.

“Fuck!” he screamed. Poppy giggled.  

“I can't see a damn thing Poppy!  We're gonna die in here!” He whined, rubbing the bruise on his shoulder he was certain was now there. He moved on, tripping in the darkness and clinging to the side of the walls like a drowning cat.  

“Wait!” The boy squinted into the dark abyss.  “Where are you?” Branch squeaked, suddenly realizing he could no longer see his companion.

“I'm a foot in front of you,” the girl reminded him.  Branch stumbled again, and found himself pressed against the back side of Poppy's body.  In a flash, the boy pushed himself away from her.

“Shit! Sorry-sorry!” he choked.

“You're fine.  Here,” Poppy swung her hand behind her until her fingers brushed something warm.  Instantly, his sweaty and desperate fingers grasped hers. Poppy pulled the boy a step closer and slapped his hand to her back.  

“Hold on, I'll lead you there.” She reassured the nervous boy. Branch clutched the fabric of her shirt for dear life and followed her deeper into the endless black tunnel.  But, soon, a new sound reverberated in the damp, musty air.  It was the unmistakable splash of falling water.

_Oh Shit, there's a drop off.  She's going to throw me off the drop off..._

“We're there,” Poppy breathed with relief.  Branch looked around the girl and could see a bright light ahead of them.  As they drew closer the sound became louder and light glowed in energy.

The end of the tunnel opened up to a large square area, maybe 15 feet across by Branch's estimate. Vines and wild grasses dangled and poured through the opening above and layered the sides of the room. Countless patches of algae shaded the concrete walls in mesmerizing streaks of blues and greens.  The raining water was loud and pulsating.

Poppy delicately stepped into the room carefully as if not to disturb the spell. Raindrops touched her face and burst open like wet petals of a flower. A hundred every moment. Poppy laughed, the sound echoed over the rushing water.  She turned to face the boy. Her smile was full, bright, and free.

“I used to come here all the time,” She sang.  “Where I can dance in the rain anytime I want!”  Her arms were open, her soft face reaching for the sky.  Branch looked up to the sun-filtering rusted grate guarding the opening above her.

“I think that's ditch water, Poppy.” Branch grimaced, imagining the bacteria that dropped with the rain.

Poppy smiled “I know, it's good for your immune system.” Branch's annoyance began to bubble in his chest, but abruptly stopped when the girl began to dance. And Poppy danced. The waves she created soaked up to her knees as she carelessly twirled in the magical cascade. The girl kicked her toes—leaping through the evolving peaks and churning ripples. With a final spin, she grabbed the boy's resistant arm with both hands.

“Come on, Branch! Dance with me!” she called.  The apprehensive boy pulled away.

Branch looked into the mucky liquid. Chunks of cloudy slime wavered as they clung to concrete edges. Pieces broke off in the current and floated past his shoes.

“Seems pretty unsanitary,” he mumbled uncomfortably. Poppy shrugged off his pessimism. She danced in the center of the room, feeling the rain on her face. Branch's blue eyes stared—just taking in the endless drops that kissed her skin.

“Come,”  she continued her inviting and playful gestures. “Dance in the rain, Branch!”

“I don't dance Poppy.”

“Then sing for me so I can!” she giggled.

“And I don't sing,” Branch insisted, nervously trying to hide his crimson features in the shadowed opening of the tunnel. Poppy stopped skipping and stared at the boy.

“Don't sing...don't dance...” she mumbled in disbelief. “Geez, you're like an alien from Trol'kan...”

Branch lopsidedly scrunched his nose.

“I don't know what that means, Poppy.” Poppy blinked, then shook her head and continued her fun.

The boy couldn't help but smile as the sunlight filtered down from the grate above--shimmering off her wet hair and glittered face as she pranced through the shallow pool.  Poppy's voice ringing through the air completed the picture.

“ _Looking up at a sunny sky, so shiny and blue and there's a butterfly_ _..._ ” Water splashed up and soaked her jeans.  They denim sucked to her skin and stretched with her movements.

“ _Well isn't that a super fantastic sign..._ ” Branch chuckled as the ridiculousness of this moment.

“I think that's enough. You're going to catch the flu, Poppy.” he warned halfheartedly.  

“I haven't yet!” She laughed.

“ _Gonna be a fantastic day!_ ”  With a swift and powerful kick, Poppy projected a large wave of water toward the boy—splashing onto his torso and face.  The boy froze, wide eyed.  The putrid taste was in his mouth and he expelled it quickly.  His hands feverishly wiped the liquid from his face. His eyes were cold as he met and glared into the girl's terror-stricken saucers.

“Oh, shit,” Poppy whispered. Branch smirked at hearing the pink haired girl's sudden use of profanity.

Rolling his tongue in his mouth, Branch turned his head and spit the last bit of disgusting liquid to the running stream that lead to the river.  He lowered his head.  Poppy barely had time to register an evil grin form on his lips before he took off at full speed and tackled her around the waste.  

Poppy screamed as they both crashed into the pool. After frantically swooping another wave at the boy, the girl was able to escape his grasp and a wild, wet battle ensued.  The couple laughed and splashed as the minutes passed, chasing and dodging each other through the cascading drops.  Branch made attempt after attempt to grab the girl with only a vague intention to drown her. But Poppy's knees pulled high and she easily bounced out of his reach with every lunge.  The girl taunted him with phrases like “Oh—good try” and “Too bad, so close!” With a particularly well aimed stroke of his arm, a gush of water whipped through the air and splattered Poppy's face. Branch took advantage, closing the gap, and shoving into her with his broad shoulder.  Poppy's butt hit the water, followed by a sharp squeak.

“Gaah!  Wait! Wait!” She screamed. “I got-got.. I think I got glitter in my eye!” Branch snorted, but revenge was rapidly replaced with alarm when the girl started to whimper.

“Shit, Poppy, stop.  D-don't rub it.”  He knelt next to her in the water.

“Here, let me see.” Branch carefully cupped her face and tilted it toward the open grate above them until he could clearly view the glimmering, plastic flakes. Her eye was growing increasingly irritated and she tried to shove the boy's hands away.

“Stop, it hurts!” she cried.

“Wait, wait..” he shushed, trying to calm her. “Relax, I've got this.” Branch yanked out a small white bottle from his side pocket and popped off the lid.  His hand was quickly on her face again, encouraging her to look up.

“Open your eye for me.” he urged firmly. “No, open!  That's the opposite of open, Poppy!”

“I'm trying!” She flailed, the foreign material stinging her sensitive and now red sclera.

“You suck at following directions, Poppy.  Here, let me help.”  Branch pulled the girl's face close, and pressed it to his chest.  Curling his arm around her head, he gently braced her in position.

“Oww...ouch!” she wined.

The cold fluid streamed into Poppy's eye, flushing the invading glitter specks.  Branch released the girl's head and leaned back onto his feet, leaving Poppy to blink away the remaining irritation. Branch's hand was still against her face as he angled it toward the light. His eyes searching for any sign of damage or remaining glitter.

Satisfied that the eye was clear, he refocused his vision so that he was no longer looking at Poppy's eye, but into them. Poppy was looking back.  That wasn't glitter sparkling back, but flecks of gold.  Her mascara was running. The water play had wiped away the powder finish of her skin and her delicate natural freckles were clear and beautiful. The tears still streaming her face were saturated with bits of silver shimmers.  Branch chucked.

“Leave it to you, Poppy, to cry glitter tears.” he smirked. His thumb stretched to the inner corner of her eye, wiping the glittery trail away. Branch held his breath as his thumb continued to brush hesitantly over the apple of her cheek.

_Did she notice?_

Poppy eyes widened, and she drew in a sharp breath.

_Shit, she noticed._

“It-it looks okay,” He stuttered and carefully pulled his hand away. Poppy closed her eyes to regain her composure. When they opened, she focused on the small white bottle still clasped in his fingers.  

“What is that?” She asked. Branch dragged his focus from her face and addressed the object in question.

“They're lubricating drops.  My, eh, my eyes get dry sometimes.”  

“Oh.” she muttered. He shrugged and the pools of his eyes pulled back to the girl.

“I like to be prepared.”

“So I've noticed,” she whispered, trapped in his gaze. “Hey—lucky me...” Poppy smiled nervously and Branch managed a half grin in return. “Thanks you.” Branch cleared his throat,

“Ya.  N-no, no problem.” His body was now trembling from his wet clothing.

The rush of the falling water was white noise blurring the world around them.  The two stayed frozen,  focused only on the moment and on each other.  Fat droplets budded at the wet, tapered ends of their hair. Swirling fluid rushed around the drenched couple as they knelt in the shallow pool. Their fingers turning cold in the icy water, but the heat between them burned in their faces.  

Branch couldn't help but think Poppy looked good wet. Were they leaning closer?  It was hard to tell when the room spinning. They could taste the sweet breath of the other, blowing and puffing excitedly across each other's' lips. Suddenly, a quick movement caught the corner of Poppy's eye, triggering a reflexive snap of her neck.

Bitty black tails were flicking and probing the stones beneath the water by Poppy's hand.

“Tadpoles!” The girl squealed.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When they emerged from the culvert, the couple were both soaked and laughing. Poppy held a plastic bag that contained two tiny, squiggling tadpoles.

“Think it would be okay for me to take them home?” She thought out loud.

“After all the work I went through to catch those fuckers?!  You'd better!” Branch snarked, wiping the floppy, damp hair out of his eyes. Poppy giggled, recalling the image of Branch tromping and diving at the water--a constant string of obscenities on his tongue as he attempted to capture the illusive hatchings for Poppy.

“Did you ever have any pets?” Poppy inquired, trying to keep the dialog moving.

“I had 8 ducklings follow me home from the park once,” Branch grinned to himself.  “Does that count?” Poppy swooned and at the adorable thought of Branch cuddling a baby duck.

“Did you name them?” She asked and Branch chuckled.

“Ya, I did.”

“Then it counts,” Poppy smiled. “What do you think we should name these little guys?” Poppy asked thoughtfully, holding the bag higher to assess her new treasures at eye level.  “Oooo—how about Bubbles?!” She chirped. Branch scoffed.  

“Too predictable.”  The boy, not paying attention, placed his larger hand casually over Poppy's and pulled the translucent container up to his view.  He stepped nearer to the girl as he studied the small, energetic organisms. His cheek was nearly touching hers and his heated breath fogged the bag in her hand as he pulled it closer.

“This one,” pointing to the smaller gray creature with a tinge of teal at the tip of its tail. “This one can be 'Puzzle'.  And that one....” Branch squinted hard at the larger, darker tadpole.  “Dragon Slayer.” Poppy shifted an upward eye to the boy.

“Seriously?” Branch gave a quick nod of approval.

“Trust me, they're good names.” Poppy looked back at the bag and repeated the words in her head. A silvery shadow reflected in the sun.  Poppy impulsively grabbed the boy's hand.  Temporarily stunned at the motion, Branch allowed her to do so.

“You have a mark on your hand...” she trailed, studying the abnormality.

“You mean 'With A Mark Upon his Hand'?” Branch scoffed.  Poppy scrunched her nose.

“What?” Poppy asked, clearly confused. Branch chuckled.

“Inside joke, never mind.” Poppy shrugged off the odd comment as she stared at the scar.  It was a perfect circle and pretty old by the look of it.  Moving up at his arm, she counted three more.  Her stomach dropped and she felt nauseous. Poppy looked up to the boy, her face reflecting a grim and horrific realization.  Branch's smile faltered at the site of her knowing eyes.

“Cigarette?”

Branch frowned, and flicked his eyes to the ground, anxiously pulling his hand from hers.

“Ya.” He mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment. He shouldn't have let her see that.  He didn't want her pity.

Branch turned from the girl and walked back in the direction of the parking lot.  Poppy stood still, paralyzed at the thought. Her cursed imagination flashed images of a small boy's mounting terror when he was unable to pull his arm away from their grasp, the pain, the piercing screams he must have released. Branch stopped in his tracks. He turned his head, just enough so that Poppy could hear, his troubled blue eyes still locked on the ground.

“Are you coming?”  He asked, his voice heavy with a wavering torrent of emotions. Poppy drew in a deep breath, swallowed the crushing sadness that ached in her chest and followed. As she closed gasp, she heard a faint noise in the wind.  

_Sniff_

The simple sound triggered a spark deep within the girl's bones.  Poppy frowned, and her fiery determination instantaneously overwhelmed her inhibitions.

_No tears, not today._

At full speed, she barreled into the raven-haired boy and swiftly wrapped her arms around him.  Her hands clamped down and she pulled her body to him.

“What the—?!” Branch yelped. His shocked eyes darted at the limbs squeezing his torso and locking his arms to his side.  

“Dammit, Poppy! Does this look like hug time to you?!” he hollered, a bit unbalance. Poppy grinned. His reaction was as she expected.

“Just thought you could use one...” She smiled and embraced tighter.  Branch's shock quickly melted, leaving only an overwhelming confusion and panic due to the avalanche of emotion he was not capable of processing with the girl's soft form pressed against his back.

“I...uh...uh...I-I don't...really do hugs, Poppy..j-just let me...”

“Dammit Branch!” Branch's mouth clamped shut, startled by the girl's intimidating tone.  Poppy released her agitation with a calming exhale. “Just shut up and take your medicine.” she growled softly.

“I...uh... hardly think the National Medical Association has approved this as therapy.” Branch puffed, squirming nervously in her arms.

“There's more than one kind of therapy.” Poppy reassured, sweetly whispering into his damp shirt.  Her hot breath moved through the fabric--sending a shiver up the boy's spine and causing his face to take on a cherry glow.  He held his breath as the tender compression continued.  

After several minutes, Poppy disengaged her hold and Branch quickly shuffled away like a wild animal released from his wire trap. He turned to look at the bubblegum princess with wide eyes and Poppy felt a rush of satisfaction as she detected no tears budding at their edges. Branch shifted his shoulders awkwardly now that his arms were free, still feeling her heat radiating through his back.

“Uhhh....we should...gotta...”  Branch's mouth gaped like a fish when he ran out of nonsensical words to blubber.  The icy blue in his eyes deepened in contrast to his crimson face.  Poppy snickered, quite pleased with herself.  She waltzed past the boy toward her car, lightly swinging the plastic bag in her hand. After a few moments, the disheveled boy followed.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Poppy smirked as she watched the tiny, silly creatures explore their new environment within the Garfield fish tank. Puzzle and Dragon Slayer, (who knows where the heck he came up with those names.), were wiggling comically through the water and suckling the florescent pink pebbles as they moved.  It was just the thing that could entertain the pink-haired girl for hours, but, again, Poppy was lost in thought. She had been doing this a lot lately.  A soft knock snapped the girl back into reality.

“May I come in?” Her father's voice muffled through the door.  Poppy gave another shake of her head, kicking out any remnants of her day dream.

“Ya-Yes! Come in!” She replied.  Poppy walked to her bed and was sitting down on the edge just as Peppy entered and peeked in at his beloved daughter.

“All ready for bed, dear?”  He asked sweetly, opening the door wider and venturing a step onto the fuchsia carpet.

“Yes,” she smiled.  “Just trying to wind down.”

“That's good dear...that's just fine...”  Peppy leaned over the tank to study his daughter's new pets.  Yet, the usual twinkle in his eyes was oddly absent and Poppy detected something off in her father's generally noble mannerisms.

“Is there something on your mind, Dad?”  she asked, fairly certain that she was probably just imagining things.

“I talked to Creek the other day as he was leaving,” Peppy started calmly.  Poppy's breath hitched in her throat. “He mentioned this Branch boy you have been keeping company with.” Poppy's big eyes looked up at her father.

“W-what about him?” She tried to hide her fumbling words beneath a forced casual demeanor.

“That's what I am interested in honey. Creek seems to be a bit worried about you concerning the time spent alone with him.”  Poppy gulped and tried to brush off her father's worry.

“It's fine, really,” The girl shrugged. “Creek is just being protective.  Branch is just...a boy I know.”

“Yes, I gathered as much,” he nodded. “I also assume you've latched onto him because you believe that you can help him in some way.” Peppy stepped deeper into Poppy's room, admiring her collection of bright necklaces, bracelets, and flowered headbands that adorned her dresser. Poppy knew exactly where this conversation was going.  Peppy knew she knew.

“Creek told you that too, huh.”  She mumbled just loud enough for her father to hear. Peppy's wise, soft eyes smiled down at his daughter.

“Sweetheart, I knew because that is the person you are.  You've always been out to save the world, one lost soul at a time.” Peppy's thick, orange mustache pulled across his face when his grin widened.

“ I remember when you were about seven, you practically jumped from our moving car to rescue a turtle that had flipped over in the center of the street.” He chuckled.  “You nearly gave me a heart attack that day.”  Poppy returned the easy laughter.  She had forgotten about that. Peppy's cleared his throat and his happy expression fell with his next question.

“This Branch boy, you know him from the clinic?” her father inquired, his tone having taken a more serious turn. Poppy looked at the floor and nodded. The man placed a strong and tender hand on her shoulder, silently persuading her to continue. Poppy's reserve to remain nonchalant on the subject was failing and shifted quickly to defense.

“Dad, if you just met him, you'd see! He's...he's so sad inside and, yes, I want to help him.  But it's more than that.  He's funny and smart, and though he doesn't think anyone notices, he can be...”  Poppy bit her lip.  “He can be really sweet.”

“But you notice?” he softly grinned, pride hesitantly glowing in his round cheeks.

“Yes, I notice.” Poppy admitted.  “He's a beautiful person.”

“You think everyone is beautiful, my dear.” Her father's voice was deep and soothing to her mind.

“I know.” Poppy's shoulders sank.  Still kerfuffled by the conversation, the girl thought maybe it was best to let honesty take over. “But there's something about him.” She wasn't sure how to explain her intentions to the all-knowing man in front of her. “He's....special.”

“And you like him?” Peppy asked, already aware of the answer. Poppy sensed the concern radiating from the man she adored.  Poppy didn't need to see it in his face to know it was there.  She wanted to ease his thoughts--deny his suspicions.  But Poppy couldn't lie, and certainly not to her father.

“I like him,” She whispered.  Her heart raced with the words.

“And he's your patient?”

“He's not MY patient...” The girl puffed momentarily before deflating. “But, yes.  He's a patient at my clinic.”  Poppy became more uncomfortable with herself as her father subconsciously pointed out the flaws in her reasoning.

“I think they call that the Florence Nightingale effect,” Peppy mused, sitting down on the Trolls comforter.

“Perhaps, your need to help people is clouding your perspective on what is right for you and for the boy.”  Peppy lovingly rubbed his daughter's back.  Poppy closed her eyes, sinking into his calming and caring touch. “Creek thinks it best that you leave Branch as he is.” Peppy's hand stopped moving, and rested again on her shoulder. “But, what do _you_ think, Sweetheart?”

Poppy's forehead wrinkled as she considered her father's words.  She stared at the stuffed animal littered floor and thought of the boy who had been occupying so much of her mind these past few weeks.

“I'm not ready to do that,” She settled. The girl met her father's gentle and compassionate brown eyes. “I need to help him, Dad.  Please understand, that I need to do this.” Peppy empathetically gazed at his idealistic daughter.  Though fear of the unknown still lingered in his heart, there was no way he could hold back her passion and commitment once she made up her mind.  Resolving to surrender to Poppy's decision, he sighed. Gripping his daughter's shoulders tenderly, he pulled her close and lovingly kissed her forehead.  

“Sometimes, even with the best intentions,”  He whispered against her skin, “People can still be hurt.”  Poppy's brows knitted at her father's strange response, but decided to not pursue the matter since the discussion had seemed to end in her favor.

The two kissed each other goodnight and exchanged 'I love you's'.  When the light was snapped off and the door softly clicked shut, Poppy snuggled into her layered blankets. With a deep, and unsettling breath, the girl closed her sleepy lids, hoping that she wouldn't dream of a certain boy with crystal blue eyes and untamed raven hair.  At least.. not again.


	11. Working With Sparkles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely satisfied with the way this one came out. Maybe I'll poke at it a bit more. I still hope you enjoy! Thanks again for Moose letting me use her eyes to clean it up a bit.

The muscles in the raven-haired boy's arms were tight and quivering as he held the grinder to the metal bar.  Flicks of glowing fired steal bloomed through the air.  The pointed silver stabilizing spikes were kicked loose from the platform leg one by one as the boy toiled away under the shower of sparks.  A hand touched his arm and Branch yelped, nearly jumping free from his skin.

He snapped his head to see a young man with a dazzling, easy smile and streaks of glitter gel shimmering in his blond hair.

“Shit, Guy! I could have taken your finger off!” Branch hollered, tossing the tool to the metal work bench.  Guy chuckled, un-phased by the boy's grumpy irritation.  

“Not holding it like that you wouldn't.”  He teased.  “You'd take your own finger off first!”  Branch rolled his eyes.  Admittedly, the sparkle boy was probably right. Branch was still getting used to working with the new, unfamiliar tools of his learning trade, and the thick leather gloves added a whole new degree of difficulty to the task.

“What did you need?” Branch snapped, still puffing as he unplugged the grinder when he took notice that it was nearly break time.

“Wanted to let you know that the electric supervisor is about to start working on the lighting for the show.  We need to stay clear for a while. I was thinking we could take a long lunch.”

Branch cocked his head, unsure if he’d heard correctly.  Guy’s rhinestone enhanced vintage-style Ace of Base T-shirt shuffled back and forth as he scrubbed his hands under the running water of the utility sink.  Branch pulled off his safety goggles, wiped the sweat beads from his face, and raised his thick, dark brows. 

“We?” A confusing mix of hope and concern in his voice.

Guy finished drying his hands, tossed the crumpled paper towel over his shoulder to the trash, and swung a slim arm around the dumbfounded boy.  Branch’s body tightened instinctively at the gesture, but his coworker gave it no mind.

“I find you...” his silver-lined eyes narrowed, imaginatively reaching into the air as he picked his adjective. “… Interesting.” Guy beamed, a mischievous glint flickering in his glossy lips. Branch scoffed to himself.

_ The hell does that mean? _

“Thanks?” he cracked, respectfully pushing the ringed fingers off his shoulder. Guy nodded.

“Come on, buddy, it will be my treat.” He grinned, trying to sweeten the offer.  After a quick squeeze, Guy finally surrendered his grip and headed toward the exit, pausing only to throw gesturing finger twitch for Branch to follow. 

Unable to produce an acceptable reason as to why he should turn down a free meal, Branch quickly washed his hands and chased after the sparkle boy down the steps.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lunch room was crowded and boisterous with students moving, choosing, and clumping into selective groups.  It was unfathomable to Branch as to how so many stuffed mouths could create such substantial racket. However, without the boy saying a word, Guy lead him out of the building and to a secluded picnic table in the courtyard under the cooling shade of a maple tree. Guy scooted onto the bench and enthusiastically licked his cherry lips as he popped the blow-form lid from his container.

 “So, how are you holding up?  Figuring things out okay?” Guy asked, informally opening the conversation.  He rotated the styrofoam bowl in his hands, deciding on the best angle to approach his “lunch”.

“It's been a challenge.” Branch shrugged and he sat down at the same table across from him, but not before checking his perspective seat for bird dropping accents. 

“And are you up for a challenge?” Guy smirked, digging the plastic spoon deep into his layered bowl of ice cream. After obtaining the bite, Guy shoved it into his mouth with a satisfied hmm.  Branch’s stomach’s growl was audible to his ears and he eagerly unwrapped the crinkly paper from his meal.

“Not really,” he chuckled. “But, to tell you the truth, the crazy highlights in my life have nothing to do with work.”  Branch lifted the top bun and carefully picked off the pickles and tomato from his burger, kicking them to the side with a flick of his fingers. 

“Aaaannnnd...” his coworker droned, rolling his fingers in the air encouragingly.

Branch blinked at the blond boy, confused. Guy huffed and dug his utensil into his towering strawberry sundae for another morsel. 

“You mind expanding on that instead of leaving me hanging like a bitch?”

Branch snickered in reaction to his coworker's blunt conversational tactics. 

“On top of school and..well...other things,” Branch muttered.  “I've been spending some time with this...”

Branch paused, not sure of what label would apply to this situation.

“Girl?” Guy asked adventitiously, taking a bite of his ice cream.

_ Yeah, that will work _

“Yes, a girl.” Branch admitted quietly, avoiding the boy's curious, scrutinizing gaze and tasted his burger. Guy nodded with approval.

“Go on.” he gestured.  Branch shrugged and swallowed his first bite.

“Go on..what?” He replied a bit defensively, pumping his shoulders. “There's not much else to say.” 

The color change of Branch's cheeks did not go unnoticed and Guy smiled.  He lowered his head and met Branch's averting blue eyes with a sly grin.

“She's nice?” he probed hopefully.

“Yes.” Branch tried his best to appear aloft on the subject.

“Fun?”

Branch nodded.

“Hot?” Guy smirked. The raven haired boy's jaw stiffened and cheeks blushed a deep crimson.

“W-We're getting off subject.” Branch cleared his throat and quickly stuffed an unnecessarily large bite into his mouth.

“No—I think we're right on track.”  Guy grinned, took another bite of his meal, then pointed the spoon in Branch's reddening face.

“So,” he waggled the spoon back and forth “gauging your reaction, she's pretty  _ damn _ hot. You make out with her yet?”

A hefty chunk of cheeseburger slipped down the wrong tube of Branch's throat and he coughed.   After a couple strong pounds of the boy's fist against his chest, the obstruction cleared. Guy calmly blinked, grinned, and waited patiently for Branch to regain his composure.

“Shit-Guy!” Branch gasped.  “It's not even like that!  We're just--”  Branch paused.  “Friends?”

“Hmmm...” the sparkle-boy considered carefully, “You don't sound so sure about that.”

“Well, I guess I'm not!” Branch blurted. Upon realizing he was still shouting, the boy did his best to reel himself back in.  “We've only hung out a few times.  She's a nice girl and all...”

“And hot...” Guy added before shoveling in another bite.

Branch glared at his coworker who was clearly milking the conversation as he liked.

“She's just a lot to take in,” Branch grunted admittingly, rubbing his fiery skin.  “The girl has the energy and positivity of twenty prancing glitter unicorns in one pink-haired, rainbow-sprinkled package.  Poppy—”

Guy's attention perked, pleasantly surprised.

“Poppy?”  He raised his eyebrows with swirling, whimsical interest. “You mean, Poppy Patel?”

Now it was Branch's turn to be surprised, but not so pleasantly. His brows furrowed, internally debating if he should even ask and continue the conversation, or kill it dead with an decisive “no”. Curiosity won out.

“Yeah, you know her?” He asked carefully, his burger consumption held at a standstill in mid air.

“Sure! Poppy and I went to highschool together.” Guy smiled.  “We still touch base once in awhile.”

Branch flushed a little at his own ignorance. Of course he knew Poppy.  Poppy probably has a “besties” branded on every person in the damn town.

“Huh, small world.” He mumbled, and resumed his meal.

After a few bites in awkward silence, Branch gathered to courage to push a little further. Since the cat was already out of the bag, the boy figured he might as well take advantage and gain some inside knowledge.

“So,” he started sheepishly.  Guy looked up from his ice cream to give Branch his full attention. “Poppy?” He met his coworker's interested eyes then glanced away. “Has she always been...so...”

“So what?” Guy cocked his head to the side like a puppy to a squeaky toy.

“So...” Branch pulled an exaggerated smile, waving jazz hands in the air. “Poppy.”

Guy snorted.

“Yes.”  he laughed. “Poppy's always been very... Poppy.”

Branch puffed an exhausted sigh. He picked thoughtfully at the melted chunks of yellow cheese that had bonded to the white paper.  The thought of the girl's succulent smile was pricking at his burning cheeks.

“Figured. She's something else...”

Guy's lips twitched, catching raven-haired boy's blush kick up again and Branch knew it was best to just let the subject drop.

“You knew her in high school?”

_ Why the hell, Branch?! Stop talking!  _

Guy's head bobbed rhythmically as he licked the fudge from his spoon.

“High school...Middle school...Elementary school...” He mumbled, the brown stickiness coating his smile as he talked. “We were even in college together for a year before Chef made her quit.” A quizzical expression invaded Branch's poorly concealed embarrassment.

“Why? Wait—who's Chef?”

“Oh,” Guy's eyes widened and he dropped his spoon into the empty bowl. “Poppy's never told you about her, eh?”  His coworker sucked in a deep breath and Branch propped his chin up with his hand, knowing he was in for quite a story. “Poppy's Great Aunt, Chef Lucia, is basically the matriarch of the family. I've never met her, but I her she is an intimidating force to be reckoned with--takes achievement and status  _ very _ seriously. She's extremely accomplished in her own right. Poppy tells me she owns, like, four high end restaurants in New York. But, she has quite a chip on her shoulder, and insists that everyone call her “Chef”--even her family.”

Branch cringed and returned his burger to the table as he listened.

“Anyway,” Guy continued.  “Poppy's Great Aunt insures that all of the Patels go to the best schools, fully paid so that they can build careers and live up to family expectations.  But that isn't who Poppy is, you know?” he smiled.  Branch nodded in return, understanding exactly what the boy meant.  Poppy was obviously a square peg in the legendary Patel lineage.

“Poppy wanted to be an artist,” Guy mused dreamily. “And she was going to make it happen regardless of Chef's plans for her.”

Branch smiled, recalling the sketch stuck to his fridge with a “Richard” magnet.

“She even managed to win a partial scholarship to the local art institute.”  It was then, that the sparkle in Guy's blue eyes faded and his radiant smile fell. “But, when Chef found out, she had a conniption saying 'no one in her family was going to throw their future away--chasing rainbows.  Chef called her...” Guy winced, “an embarrassment to the family name.”

Branch frowned.

“So, that's why she became a nurse?”

Guy nodded, still serious.  He fiddled with the diamond stud in his left ear.

“Chef still isn't happy with her.” Guy sighed. “I think her Aunt takes it as a personal insult if her decedents don't earn at least a six figure income and have the high-end home and lifestyle to show for it.”

Branch felt personally insulted himself, though having no clue as to why. He shook his head, a defiant action on behalf of the girl.

“B-But...but Poppy  _ helps _ people, she makes a difference and...and...”

Realizing that he was liberally rambling with no confirmed destination, Branch forced his jaw closed and swallowed. Where was he going with this?

“I know.” Guy shook his head sadly, his over-gelled hair holding fast.  “But Poppy will never earn status as a nurse and middle class just isn't good enough for the Patels.”

The two boys sat in silence for several minutes before Guy finally decided that was enough.  With a swipe of his careful hands, he insured every hair was still in place then quickly wiped over his nose with a sniff.

“Better finish up,” he forced a grin.  “We need to head back soon.”

Branch nodded in response, not meeting his eyes.  But when he looked back to his half eaten burger on the table, he realized he just wasn't that hungry anymore.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The  pink marshmallow of death herself was waiting outside the stage door when they returned.

“Speaking of our sugar-glazed princess,” Guy whispered, nudging Branch with his elbow. Branch had already seen her. He stole these precious seconds to gaze at the girl, unnoticed. Her curly, bubblegum hair was pulled into relaxed ponytail on top her head.  A powder-blue baby doll shirt embroidered with white,curling loops along the bottom edge fluttered freely in the breeze and showed off her bare shoulders that bloomed with freckles from the spring sunshine.  Denim shorts decorated with pink and purple flowers formed to the beckoning curve of her hips. She was a florescent cotton-candy vision against the plain brick building.  Branch forced himself to swallow.

_ Oh my god those shorts are short. _

The girl caught their approach and her face lit up like a glitter-sprinkled birthday cake.

“Guy!” Poppy cried, overjoyed to see her favorite sparkle-boy's smiling face. She threw her smooth, supple arms around him, kissing is chuckling cheeks “Didn't know you worked here, too!”

Branch grinned, a tiny part of him wishing he could have received the same greeting, but he quickly shrugged it off before she could see.

“Hey beautiful!” Guy hugged back. “Yup, started about 3 months ago.”

“Has it been that long since we've hung out?!  Wow!” Poppy gave the boy another tight squidge before returning her arms to her side and turning to the blue-eyed boy beside him.

Branch's mouth was pulled firm and serious.

“Are you stalking me?” He inquired, stone-faced with a hint of suspicion.

Poppy's eyes widened and a disappointment shattered her sweet expression. Branch control crumbled into a snicker, but his sarcastic grin quickly softened as tentatively reached up and delicately grasped one of her rogue curls between his nervous fingertips. He gently tugged and released the pink lock, letting it bounce like a lazy spring. 

“Cause that would be fantastic,” he smirked. A rosy rush warmed Poppy's cheeks at the slightly veiled endearing sediment.

Guy squinted--darting his silver accented sapphire eyes between the couple who seemed to be obliviously hung up in the moment.  Suddenly, his brows buried into his perfectly manicured hairline when he was struck with the obvious conclusion.

“Oh.” he muttered, jaw loose.

“What was that?!” The boy and girl questioned in unison, simultaneously snapping from their trance.

“Nothing,” He smirked, trying to stifle any other expressions that would betray his thoughts. Guy opened the large, metal door for the couple and the trio entered.

“W-What are you doing here?” Branch asked, voice cracking while shoving his fists into his front pockets as they headed up the stairs.  Poppy, on the other hand, had taken the prolonged eye-contact in stride.

“I wanted to see where you worked?” she smiled innocently.

To the girl's pleasant surprise, Branch went all out with the tour.  He led Poppy around the set currently in construction, showed her around the workshop, and even let her hold the prop sword that would be used in the show.

“This place is great!” she gasped. “I can see why you like working here.” Poppy face glimmered with wonder, admiring the structured labyrinth of lights, rafters, and curtain rods high above the stage. Branch could feel the satisfied warmth of accomplishment fill his chest. Poppy looked back to the boy and couldn't take her eyes off of his rugged appearance.  

“You're so dirty though...” she snickered while trying to ignore the rapid fluttering in her belly.

Branch gave himself a casual once over. He brushed the layers of sawdust and metal filings from his pants.

“Yeah, they say that at the end of the day, if you aren't filthy or bleeding, you didn't do your job right.” Poppy swept some remaining sawdust off his shoulder. 

“I guess you must be doing something right, then.” Branch smiled, now feeling proud of his soiled appearance.  

“I must be...”

“Hey Branch!”  The couple jumped to the booming call that shook them both.  Quickly, Guy was between them, his hand hurriedly tapping Branch's shoulder. “I just remembered, buddy, I have to duck out early today.” Branch blinked, confused, and slightly irritated that this information couldn't have waited a few more minutes.

“Wait—what?! Why?”

“That thing, just that thing I have to do.” Guy offhandedly ignoring the desperation Branch's objection.

“You never mentioned...”

“Yes, totally forgot,” Guy shrugged.

“What about the curtain?” Branch bellowed, throwing a over a hand above his head to the mass of suspended polls above them. “We have to have that hung today. No way I can do it by myself!”

“Hey, I have an idea!” The sparkle boy smiled, though Branch found it odd that Guy's sudden “idea” didn't feel entirely spontaneous. “What about Poppy? Poppy can help! Can't you, Poppy?” Swinging an arm around the pink-haired girl, he pulled her into a side hug. Poppy's entire body peculated with enthusiasm. 

“Oh, yeah! Sure! Sounds like fun!” she squealed.

“Well there you go. See?” Guy gestured to Poppy with a dart of his blue eyes. “ _ sounds like fun _ .” he emphasized. Branch stood, baffled that  he had no say in the matter. Guy gave Branch a friendly slap on the back.

“You two have  _ fun _ .” he smiled. Branch frowned. He he didn't like the way his co-worker had said that. Guy winked at Branch, and headed off stage.  The boy grabbed his backpack from the floor and took off down the steps.

After a few moments, a realization dawned on Branch regarding Guy's potential alternative motive and his eyes widened.

_ Sneaky, sparkly son-of-a-bitch _

He quickly glanced at Poppy to see if the same conclusion had come to her as well. She met Branch's eyes and an innocent, clueless grin stretched from cheek to cheek. But, then her eyes rounded.

“Oh wait!”  Poppy pulled out a pink glitter phone from her back pocket and, after an opening sweep, began feverishly punching at the numbers.  The boy leaned a little closer to her busy fingers.

“What's wrong?”

“Creek,” She muttered, “I was going to meet him for lunch.”

Branch's shoulders sank.

_ Oh ya.  Creep. _

“W-Well, that's okay,” he flustered, rubbing at his nape.  “I can just--”

“It's fine,” she interrupted with a reassuring smile. “I told him I'm helping you here instead.”

Branch couldn't hide the curl of a grin.

“And...done.” Poppy tucked her phone back into place and returned her focus to the boy—her anticipation glimmering.  “Where do we start?”

Branch looked up to the empty batten secured 20 feet above him that spanned the entire length of the stage.  There was only one to get up there and Branch silently prayed he could maintain a calm facade until the task was done.  

The cherry picker was already in place, and the grand velvet curtain lay in as a gigantic muddled lump on the floor beside it.  It took Branch and Poppy nearly ten minutes of relentless ferreting to locate the corner that they needed.  Gripping the edge tightly in his fists, Branch boarded the platform then gestured to the girl. She hopped the bar easily and squeezed in beside him, holding onto the thick curtain a few feet from Branch's hands for extra support.

As they slowly ascended, the lifting fabric becoming increasingly burdensome and their muscles tightened against dangling mass that pulled back from the floor. It was tug of war opposing gravity that they were winning inch by inch.  When they reached their destination, the air was hot, and the couple were a snug fit in the basket intended for one.  Branch and Poppy tried their best not to bump or pressed against each other during the job, but under the circumstances, it was unavoidable. It only took the first touch for Branch's face to match the shade of Poppy's raspberry gloss. 

Poppy pushed herself to focus on the task, but the boy's body heat radiated into her and enticed her mind to wonder.  His tough but nimble fingers laced the supporting ropes through the brass grommet and around the suspended pole as Poppy held the massive curtain in place.

The backdrop curtain was heavy, but Poppy tried to hide it.  She muffled her grunts as she tugged the heavy fabric and held it high, long enough for Branch to complete the tie. Foot by foot, they made their way along the steal support. Their bodies were slick from the labor and chests were panting in the heat emanating from the nearby lighting. The tantalizing scent of steel grease and wood dust mixed with Branch's natural, earthy smell and it was overwhelmingly intoxicating. The moisture on Poppy's skin released the bouquet of her strawberry body spray as she moved. The cramped condition lead to accidental but frequent brushes of their cheeks and hands, and shuddering breaths across the other's lips.   After 40 minutes, the curtain was at last hung. When the basket was lowered to the floor, Poppy and Branch took a moment to catch their breath and admire the job well done. The mauve curtain had a silver sheen that reflected under the theater lights.  It appeared strong and solid, like an impenetrable wall, but the illusion was broken easily as it wavered in traveling ripples at the slightest gentle touch of your hand.  It reminded her of something.  Someone.

She glanced at his hand that hung free and inviting at his side. Reality slapped her hand back, realizing the intimacy of such a gesture, and she settled for the next best thing.

“Hug time!”

Branch nearly had the wind knocked out of him when Poppy ungraciously charged and clamped her arms around his torso.

“Holy Shit, Poppy!  Can't you give a guy fair warning?” he gasped. Poppy giggled.

“What fun would that be?” 

“It would certainly be safer.” Branch grumbled, fidgeting in place.  “At least it would give me a chance to duck out of the way.” 

“Shut up, you grump.”  Poppy nuzzled into his shirt, covertly breathing him in. “Can't we just take a moment to acknowledge that we made a good team?” Poppy pulled every curve of her body into his, Branch closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

_ She has a boyfriend, she has a boyfriend, she has a boyfriend.... _

“Thank you..” he breathed, still internally shaking “--for your help—w-with the curtain—n-not the hug. I don't really do hugs, remember?”

Poppy squeezed a little more and the red in Branch's cheeks deepened and his stomach rolled.

“Tough luck, bud.” She declared definitively. “It was time for your daily dose of hug time.”

Branch groaned.  With reluctant and nervous apprehension, he stiffly lifted his hand and patted his capture's back uncomfortably.  Poppy's buzzing enthusiasm tingled in her bones.

_ That's more like it. _

 

In the last row, hidden by the darkness on the far end of the theater, sat a figure slouched in the red woven fabric chair.  His arms were crossed, body rigid as he stared. He had heard everything but said nothing. He silently watched the raven-haired boy—suspicion glaring in his lavender eyes.  But when the boy and girl embraced,  he took notice of something. Something nearly imperceptible that made his back straighten and his eyes narrow-- focus sharpening on young couple.  

_ Well...what do you know... _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The boy kept his head down as to avoid any friendly nods from unknown passerby's as they made their way across the campus. By polar contrast, the cotton candy queen skipped confidently beside him, waving sweetly to every stranger and chirping sugary “hello's” into the warm afternoon air. Friendly chipmunks peaked out from under the bushes, eagerly waiting for sympathetic co-eds to toss them an extra cracker they'd snatched from the lunch line.  Branch flicked his eyes at his cheery companion, imagining that his college mates would see their pairing as an act of charity or (in an ironic conclusion) he had kidnapped her.  Poppy pulled a small round container from her front pocket, unscrewed the gold lid, and habitually reapplied dots of gel-suspended silver specks to her cheeks before kissing her finger and replacing the lid.  Branch rolled his eyes.

“So, I gotta ask, Poppy.  What's with the glitter?” He enquired, as they walked toward Branch's next class.

“I like it” she smiled, still continuing her pleasant greetings to those who delightfully crossed her line of sight.  “It makes me happy and I think it enhances my natural beauty.” She turned back to the boy and flashed a coy smile.

“Natural?” Branch scoffed.  “There's nothing  _ natural _ about glitter.” Poppy gawked bitterly, feeling honestly offended at his accusation.  Who was he to judge glitter?!

“You take that back!” she snapped, poking a hard finger into his shoulder. “Glitter is just as natural as pok-a-dots!”  Branch shook his head at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

“I mean, some insects have reflective powder-like butterflies,” he grumbled reluctantly, shrugging and rubbing his sore shoulders. “Rocks can have mica and quartz that I guess can sparkle if it catches the light. But nothing ALIVE actually 'glitters', Poppy.”

“You are SO wrong, Mister Branch.” Poppy stared hard at the boy's profile as they walked before she came to a decision. “And I'm going to prove you wrong.” she smiled devilishly. 

“Pff! Not possible.” Branch jeered.

With a couple of hurried steps, Poppy was in front of the boy, blocking his path. Branch barely caught himself before smacking into her.

“Are you trying to get run over?!” He growled, figuring his body has been pressed against hers enough for one day.

Poppy gripped the collar of his blue shirt and jerked, causing the for once unprepared boy to stumble—closing the gap.

She pulled Branch's stunned face closer, until their noses touched and her sunshine dotted eyes were squinting into his.

“Challenge accepted,” the girl snarled.

Branch swallowed nervously.  He wanted to step back, maybe then his heart beat would kick back in, but he found himself paralyzed, staring into those intimidating gold-speckled orbs.  

“I'm picking you up at 11:30 tonight,” She sneered “Be ready to have your mind blown.”

With a firm shove, Poppy released the petrified boy.  Branch gasped as his heart pounded beneath his chest again. He looked up into the friendly, cloud blotched sky.

_ Shit-- this girl's going to be the death of me... _


	12. The Glitter Fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SO FLUFFY I'M GONNA DIE!!! A lot happens. Usually, I'm like "eh"--good enough. But I really like this chapter. I hope you do to. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with the story so far. And my undying gratitude goes out to all of you who have taken the time to leave Kudos and Comments. You make my world SHINE! Thank you to Moose who helped with editing again this chapter! Love you so much, girl! Enjoy!

 

Branch stared out the window at pitch-blank nothingness.  The gravel that rumbled under the car was soothing in the late hour.  Branch yawned.

“We almost there?” he whined sleepily as he rubbed his palms into his drooping eyes.

“For Heaven's sake, Branch, it's only been 15 minutes!” She groaned, eyeing the boy beside her with mild annoyance. Branch had pressed his face hard against the cool passenger window, repetitively knocking his forehead to the glass in attempt to keep himself awake. Poppy turned her view back to the road and smiled, her eyes starting to sparkle with the thrill of anticipation.  “But, yes, we're almost there.”

Branch squinted into the darkness but was unable to make out any recognizable landmarks as the wheels followed the winding path to who the hell knows where. Poppy swallowed her excitement.

“Branch?”

“Yeah?” The boy leaned his temple into the window and yawned again. Poppy licked her flavored lips apprehensively.

“Would you mind closing your eyes?” Branch raises an eyebrow at the pink-haired girl.

“Seriously?”

“Yes seriously!” She grinned.  “I don't want to ruin the surprise.”

Branch groaned and clasped a hand over his eyes.  After another minute, the car slowed to a stop and the engine was turned off.

“Keep um closed,” Poppy whispered, her strawberry breath gliding past his cheek.

Poppy's door opened and quickly slammed shut.  Branch reached beside him with his free hand and undid his seat belt in preparation. With a click and a sharp squeak, the passenger door opened.  Two warm, soft hands tenderly took his own. She lead him gently from the car, closing the door behind him.  The pebbles ground under his shoes as he followed the girl blindly around the car.

“They still shut?” She giggled.

“I'm not peaking, Poppy, I promise.”  Branch grinned with amusement. There was something about hearing Poppy get excited that made his stomach quiver affectionately. Branch felt her wrapping fingers squeeze tighter around his own and he squeezed back.  He pushed his masking hand harder against his eyes and blushed.

When Branch's feet finally reached the familiar cushion of grass, Poppy released his hand. She took a moment to appreciate this boy who had come to trust her so completely that he'd allow himself to be lead blindfolded down a deserted country road in the middle of the night. And, for once, did not appear to believe she was going to murder him. Poppy breathed.

“Annnnnd....now.”

Branch's arm dropped to his side.  At first, he saw nothing.  His eyes blinked as his pupils adjusted to the night.  They were standing in front of a field.  A wheat field.  But it wasn't....what was that?  Branch closed his lids forcefully before opening them again to focus.  Lights.  There were lights everywhere.

Branch's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped.

“Oh my God, Poppy!”

Poppy beamed taking in the same view as the stunned boy beside her.

The whole field! It was covered in lightning bugs! Blinking and sparkling for miles over the hills—mirroring the silver stars above.

“Fireflies,” Branch whispered, trying to process what he was seeing.  “I've never seen so many in all my life..” Turning his view to the left and right, the lights carried on further then he could gauge.

“It's....” Branch mindlessly shook his head side to side. The pin-point lights pulsated in wavering vibrations--sparkling over the farmland.  There was no other word to describe it. “It's glittering!”

It was nearly impossible to separate the individual flickering beacons from each other. The waving wheat was coated in a gossamer veil infused with twinkling gold dust as far as he could see. A million tiny hearts beating their color, calling to one another in countless, continuous ripples--a living field. It was beautiful. Branch felt a firm shove against his shoulder.

“Come on!” Poppy urged as she made her way down  into the ditch toward a stream that bordered  the field.

“Wait- what?” He gasped.  Branch could hardly make out Poppy's figure in the darkness.  “Are you nuts?  It's the middle of the night! We could get lost out there!”  Despite his protests, he followed Poppy down the slope in effort to not lose sight of her.

 “It'll be fine,” she called sweetly, “I've done this a hundred times!” Poppy carefully stepped onto a waterlogged tree that peaked just over the surface of the water.

“W-What if you trip in a gopher hole?” Branch's voice wavered, but Poppy had already caught onto his delay tactics.

“You will just have to carry me back.”  Branch looked again into the magical and mysterious field.

“What if _I_ trip in a gopher hole?!” He choked fearfully. Poppy chuckled.

“Don't be silly, Branch” she teased, wavering and wobbling her way over a sunken log to the other side of the ditch. Branch frowned.  

“Don't call me silly,” He hollered back. When Poppy reached the other side, she turned, grinning at the stubborn boy who had crossed his arms grumpily over his chest.

“I would just leave you there to be eaten by crows,” Poppy taunted. “I'm sure _someone_ will discover your body eventually--give you a proper burial and all...”

With a deep breath and a ginger steps, Branch moved onto the slippery wood surface.  Nearing closer to Poppy, his reflective blue eyes locked onto hers.

“Not if I bury you first,” He chuckled maliciously.

Poppy's eyes widened and unattractive squeak slipped from her throat. Like a frightened bunny, she took off like a bullet into the field.  When Branch's foot hit solid ground, he gave chase.

Poppy's boisterous laughter only fueled the exhilarating fire in Branch's blood--pushing his legs harder. The grains slapping against his shins, quickly closing in on his softly moonlit target. Billowing wisps of fireflies flew into the air from the disturbed shafts, like swells of glamorous, golden mist. She was fast, but on level ground, Branch was faster.  Her bouncing outline enlarged as the boy rapidly approached. Only feet away, a switch flipped and an impulse of pure elation took over Branch's mind and body.  Poppy heard him behind her and turned. The girl had no time to react as Branch barreled into her--snatching her around the waist.  In one, swift movement, Poppy was pulled into the air and spinning in circles through the field.  She screamed in vibrating giggles, throwing her head into the night sky as Branch twirled her around and around, her feet whipping against the long wheat stalks. Fireflies were kicked loose and  rose around them like swirling glitter in a jar of water.  Branch looked up into her face--glowing and joyful.  Her happy sounds sparked like bolts of electricity in his heart. His eyes closed, feet stepping and crossing faster--desperate to not let them stop. Her delighted shrieks burned in his ears fanning the flames he had been trying to stifle for so many weeks.  Her arms slid around his neck and clung fiercely to the boy. Her close scent swelled his senses and damn burst--spilling a torrent of powerful emotions   Branch laughed.

He pulled Poppy tight, her body heat filling him and her demanding heart pounding with his own. In this moment, it didn't matter that she was a professional in a devoted relationship with another.  It didn't matter that Branch was a hopeless grump whose short life was destined to end beyond his control.  In this moment, for as long as it could last, they belonged to each other. Branch moved his face close, the dizzying motion turning his resolve fuzzy as his lips brushed her neck. Caught up in surging impulses that ran hot through his body, Branch lost himself. He pressed his mouth to her delicate skin.  It wasn't a real kiss, but he could feel the passion from his lips burning through to her smooth and curving lines—wanting...and needing... desperate to hold on.  And in that moment, for the young couple twirling and spinning through the endless glitter fields, time stopped.  It was chaotic...it was thrilling...and it was wonderful!

The girl's smooth arms held fast around Branch, preventing her from flying into the starry sky and unintentionally pushing his mouth deeper into her enticing flavor.  Poppy's eyes closed and a soft groan that released from her was immediately lost to the wind.  The blissful happiness coursing through them stole their breath away. The word was going lopsided and Branch's balance was failing, but they continued to turn, faster and faster. He never wanting to stop spinning. If he stopped, all this would end.  Possessively locking her body to his, Branch pleaded to himself to hold on a few moments longer. Just a few moments longer...

Suddenly, the soft dirt that should have been beneath his foot was gone.  Branch tumbled to the ground with Poppy landing awkwardly on top of him.

“Shit!” Branch winced. Poppy rolled off of him, still giggling.

The moment had shattered and instantly dissipated into the surrounding atmosphere.  He was Branch and she was Poppy.  And everything else that had always been attached to those labels.

“What the heck happened?” Poppy gasped between snorts.

Branch sat up, pulled leg close and rubbed his sore ankle.  His eyes narrowed, searching the ground, for the culprit responsible  for his fall.  Within seconds, he spotted a small mound of loose soil with a concave center.  Branch groaned at the irony.  

“I tripped in a gopher hole...” he grumbled.

Poppy couldn't help but laugh.  Branch glared at the girl and half-hearted poked her ribs with his elbow.  

“Not funny, Poppy.  It hurt.” he pouted.

Poppy slowed her giggles to happy sigh.

“You're right, I'm sorry,” she grinned.  “Let me see.”  Poppy's fingers stroked over his skin, observing the area for swelling.

“Can you still move it?” she asked, concerned. Branch nodded and carefully rotated his foot side to side.

“Does it hurt when you do that?”

Branch shrugged.  

“A little.”

Poppy continued to press around the muscle and bone, watching Branch' reactions carefully. After finishing her assessment, Poppy sat back on her knees and blew a gust of air through her puffed cheeks.

“Well,  it's not broken, and it doesn't seem to be sprained.”

“No, no.” Branch replied, letting go of his ankle.  “I-I think I just rolled it.”  

“Better to just rest it for a little while then.”  Poppy sighed contently, flipped her legs out from under her, and rolled back against the ground. Tucking her arms behind her head, she stared up into the starlit sky and smiled.  

Branch looked down fondly at the girl grinning up at him. The glitter on her face caught the faint moonlight and friendly, illuminating bugs danced on her pink hair.  Suddenly the cold ground next Poppy appeared irresistibly inviting, and Branch found himself lying down beside her to stargaze.

The sky was clear that night.  The murky milky way spanned across the sky, white stars with flickering shades of pink, red, and orange sparked above them and fireflies lazily drifted in and out of view.

“You watch the stars often?” Poppy whispered with genuine interest.

Her companion remained silent for several moments.

“I used to...” Branch mumbled.  The boy swallowed hard and then turned eerily quiet.  He pulled in a shaky breath as his throat tightened around his voice. “With Mama Rosie.” Poppy's eyes flashed to the boy's silver-lined profile.

“Your Grandmother?” she asked delicately, not sure if the boy would respond.

“She...” Branch bit his bottom lip, his mind torn in a state of ambivalence before he finally chose a side.  “She wasn't really my Grandmother...”

Poppy turned her body and her concerned brows furrowed.  She propped her cheek with her arm, gazing at the boy whose raven hair blended into the dark soil beneath him.  His reflective eyes darted to his nervously milling hands.  His vulnerable state was both worrisome and beautiful.  

“Mama Rosie worked for my parents for years.  She was closer than family.”  Branch glanced quickly to Poppy then back to the heavens. ”When I was born, she even helped set up a small trust for me to be sure I'd be taken care of.  And when my parents...”

Branch’s chest began to flutter and his lips thinned.

“She adopted me.”  Branch's respirations were raspy, his bottom lip trembled.

Poppy dropped her propping hand and relaxed into the ground, resting her head gently on Branch's shoulder.

“What was she like?”

Branch chuckled, his glossy eyes speckled with the reflected golden beads from floating lights above.

“She was the kindest person I ever knew,” he smiled, his mind blending into past. “Rosie was the type of lady that would shovel mounds of mashed potatoes onto your plate, even after you tell her that you're full.” Branch snorted. “And she'd STILL insist you have a chocolate chip cookie afterword.”

Poppy had never heard Branch talk this much before and she hung on every word --amazed.

“Rosie would get so excited to watch her favorite Shirley Temple movie, then fall asleep 10 minutes after it started.  With the ending music, her “blue” eyes would open and she'd smile at me and ask sweetly...”  Branch squinted into the stars, Rosie's voice still clear in his head as he spoke,

“Wasn't that just beautiful?”

Branch was losing his battle for control.  

“And...”

The tormenting heat burned in his cheeks.

“S-she...she loved me, Poppy.”  His voice broke.  “She really loved me...”

The tears bit at his eyes, but it felt good. It felt...liberating.  As the drops tumbled, Poppy reached her comforting arm around the boy in a delicate embrace. Branch sniffed hard.

“Hug time?” The blue-eyed boy smirked, wiping the streaks from his face with his palm.  Poppy nodded with a soft grin.

“Hug time.”

Branch nodded in return.

Tired and drained, Branch wrapped his arm around Poppy and tugged her in, careful to leave a few inches of space between their bodies. His hand rested on her shoulder, softly stroking his thumb over the smooth fabric. The knot in his stomach untangled and he felt his lungs fully open for the first time in so many years. He sighed, his breaths now calm.

“I think I'm getting used to it.”

Poppy closed her eyes and her curling raspberry lips glistened in the moonlight.

“I'm glad.”

Branch squeezed a little tighter.

“Mama Rosie loved hugs too.”

It was more than ten minutes before the silence was broken.

“Is your ankle feeling better?” Poppy whispered.

Branch hummed, his heavy lids were sagging.  

“Yeah, it feels fine.”

“Great!” she snapped cheerfully.  In a flash, Poppy was on her feet and sprinting back toward the road.

“Race you back!” Poppy called, already several meters ahead.  The boy instantly snapped out of his daze and popped up to a stand.  After a few careful sore steps to be certain he wasn't seriously injured, Branch picked up pace and was in hot pursuit.  With Branch behind her, Poppy bolted as fast as her legs would carry her through the wheat field.  The ditch came up quickly in the darkness and Poppy stopped short at the edge--feverishly trying to remember where the log was.  Branch's focus was caught up in the chase. He had forgotten all about the log and, in his enthusiasm, never applied the brake until it was too late. With an “Oooff”, the boy smacked into Poppy's back.

Poppy screamed, twisting in the air. Her flailing arms grabbed onto the first thing she could, which happened to be Branch's outstretched arm.  Branch yelped as he was pulled in with her.

And there young couple sat, staring at each other--completely drenched and up to their wastes in the slow running, cold stream. Branch with a bitter scowl on his face and Poppy laughing her damn head off.

Branch rolled his eyes, unamused.

“Shut up, Poppy,” he growled. Branch snatched Poppy's hand and tried to crawl his way up the slick side of the muddy ditch, only to slip, and let loose a string of cuss words.  This only made Poppy laugh harder.  

“Stop laughing, Poppy!” He snapped, holding back a crinkly smile of his own. “You're making it impossible to hold on to you!”

“Sorry-Sorry!”  She giggled, smacking her free hand over her mouth. But the sound still bubbled through her fingers like fizzing rootbeer.

Branch grunted, shaking his head.

“I should just leave you in there to stew,” he threatened, taking a few well chosen steps up the muddy side with Poppy in tow.

“Hey, you can't blame me, bud!” Poppy hissed sarcastically.  “This one on you!”

“You goaded me into chasing you!” Branch accused, gripping onto the long grasses that laced the edge of the ditch. Inch by inch, he locked in his footholds-- pulling and tugging Poppy up the unstable embankment.

“Not my fault you are so easily influenced!”  Poppy smiled, grabbing onto Branch's arm with her other hand as they climbed. “Besides, you worry too much.  No one got hurt and that's what's important.”  After another minute of sliding and struggling, the couple finally reached the level grassy shoulder of the road.

“Ppppff!  Whatever...” Branch grumbled to himself as his walked to the passenger side of the car--his sodded shoes squishing with each step.

The couple opened their respective side doors, allowing the floodlight to illuminate their situation.

“Check yourself for leeches,” Poppy chirped, pulling off a long string of grass that clung to her arm.

Branch's head bolted upright.

“W-what?!” he gasped. Poppy snickered.  

“I'm kidding—just kidding,” She smiled.  Branch released a puff of air.  Poppy lifted her hands and gently fingered her scalp--sifting through the wet strands.

“But seriously, check yourself for ticks when you get home...” she mentioned casually.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled. Branch leaned forward and flicked his fingers through his hair--splattering drops to the ground and over the side of the vehicle.

“Hey! Watch my car!”

Branch stopped shaking out his hair, blinked, then looked at the dried mud already coating the wheel wells and doors. Branch scoffed.

“I'm sure it will be fine.”

Branch' hands moved to his clothing and rigorously tried to squeeze the wetness from the hem of his shirt with little success. He grunted in frustration.

“Tell me, Poppy.” He growled playfully. “Why is it, that everytime I'm with you on one of these adventures, I end up soaked in either sweat or stagnant water?”

“Just lucky I guess,” she shrugged.  Branch stared at the girl as she continued to pick grass off her clothing, then shook his head.

“Luck isn't what I would call it.”

Poppy met the boy's eyes with a flirtatious grin.

“Lucky you look good wet,” She smirked.  

Whatever was left of Branch's cranky resolve fell at the compliment and he chuckled.  Poppy smiled, spiraling her hair to one side and wringing out her pink, saturated locks.

Branch looked down at his dripping shirt and blushed.

“I need to...”

Poppy stared blankly, then cocked her head to the side, confused.

Branch sighed and turned slightly away from Poppy's nosy gaze. With a nervous puff, he pulled his shirt off over his head.

_Oh_

Poppy darted her eyes away, but that instinct was quickly overpowered by her ingrained (and sometimes) inappropriate curiosity. Her impulses pulled one inquiring eye back to the boy, and then the other.

 His body was different from the more mature and elderly ones she was accustomed to seeing in nursing school.

His bare chest glistened in the yellow glow that filtered from the car's overhead light and shadows accented every groove.  A small, dark patch of hair shaded horizontally across his chest and a thin line dusted down the center of his midriff, growing  fuller just below the navel.  His chest was tight and lean.  The muscles of his shoulders and arms swelled and rippled with his movements as he twisted the stale water from his shirt. A shower of fat droplets fell to the gravel in sharp taps.  A small, round layer of baby fat rolled on his lower abdomen, complementing the faint childish plumpness of his blushing cheeks. Thin, plaid boxers puffed around the edge of his wet jeans. Poppy's heart was pounding obnoxiously loud in her chest.  Her breaths turned rapid and choking. The fire coursing through her blood  was so intense she was certain resting water on her skin would boil any moment.

_I wonder if it would be inappropriate to initiate hug time._

 Branch took notice of her unblinking attention and blushed.

“Geez, Poppy, do you have to stare?” he asked, embarrassment vibrating in his voice.

Poppy snapped out of her trance and looked to the glitter fields.

“W-what?  Was I staring? Sorry.“ she mumbled nervously.

Unable to stay distracted for long, her vision quickly turned back to the raven haired boy, trying to be more discrete in her appreciation for the view. Branch had turned further and Poppy gazed at the gentle rounding of his back.  Shoulder blades were pulling and kissing the line of his spine that curved downward.  The jeans hung low on Branch's hip bones, heavy from the recent and unintended swim, and a small crease peaked out from the waistband.

 _Oh my gosh!_  

Red was flooding Poppy's entire face, her chest was tight.

“Your pants are still wet,” she blurted without thinking.  “You should wring them out too.”

Branch's jaw dropped, slightly mortified as he met Poppy's dilated eyes.

“I'm not taking off my pants, Poppy!”

 Poppy blinked and shook away the  fog.

“No-no-not what I meant!” she nearly screamed, shaking her head harder.

Branch stared, legitimately considering if delirium related to hypothermia could set in this quickly.

“What I mean is...,”  she cleared the squeak in her voice with a nervous grunt. “It's not a big deal.  I've seen plenty of people in their underwear or less.”

Branch shook his head still baffled by what she was suggesting.  Maybe Poppy has had plenty of experiences being in front of others in her underwear, but, at least on a social level, Branch had not.

“Yeah well, still not happening,” Branch's glared at the pink-haired girl, whose expression showed she was aware her suggestion may have been a tad inappropriate.  Branch's eyes softened and he smirked playfully. “You need to buy me dinner first.”

“I bought you a cookie once,” Poppy smirked back. Branch chuckled nervously and snapped his shirt in the air—flinging tiny bits of debris that clung to the dark fabric.

“Not enough,” he grinned. “Maybe beautiful ‘Creep’ is comfortable waltzing around with barely any clothes, but I'm not.”

Poppy paused for a moment before doubling over in squealing laughter.

“He..”..she gasped between ruptures, “He's going to love that you think he's beautiful!”

Branch fumed at the thought, then gestured to uncontrollably giggling companion.

“I don't see you taking your clothes off, so just drop it!” he glared.

“Oh...” Poppy's laughter abruptly ceased and was replaced with an equally disconcerting mischievous grin.”You want me to take my clothes off?”

The ice blue of his eyes whipped to the girl.  His vision unintentionally trailed down her dripping figure. The pink fabric clung sensually to her skin.  Her bra was clearly _not_ padded and it was difficult to ignore her form reacting to the cooling air.

_Oh shit!_

“What?!  Wait—What?! No...,” he blubbered, shaking his hands in front of him as he stumbled a step back.

Feeling she had scored back her footing in this match, Poppy's bubbling giggles returned.  She moved to the back of her car and popped the trunk. After a minute of scrounging, she emerged from the compartment with two large, fluffy white towels.  

“After the last time,” She smiled proudly as she slammed the trunk. “I decided it would be a good idea to carry a couple with me.” Poppy tossed one of the towels to the wide-eyed boy who instinctively caught it midair.

“Always prepared, right?” She smirked. “But, honestly Branch, I didn't expect to get soaked tonight.” she shrugged.  “Lucky us.”

Branch stood silently, still dumbfounded as he watched Poppy rub the fluffy cotton cloth over her skin, pulling and inviting her core heat to return to the surface. Poppy closed her eyes and hummed at the pleasant sensation. Branch gulped. Lucky him.

_Fuck! Stop staring Branch!_

Branch pulled his eyes to the towel that was still clenched in his fist.  He turned away from the girl as an effort to force himself from his fixation.  Luck continued for Poppy, as this allowed her view to pick up where the boy's had left off.

 

After clothing had alternated from soaked to damp and their towels lay securely over their seat cushions, the couple buckled themselves safely into the car.  As Branch and Poppy headed toward home, they enjoyed the ride in silence, with only the occasional sweet but awkward eye contact exchanged between them.  Flickering smiles intermittently ghosted in their faces, still reliving the evening's events that had been permanently branded in memory.


	13. Blue Verses Lavender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama.  
> Thank you again to Moose who helped me with editing and puts up with my endless, tedious mistakes.

Chapter 13:  Blue Verses Lavender

 

Two exhausted boys sat comfortably on metal rungs of the catwalk.  Their legs dangled, swinging leisurely thirty feet above the black stage floor. There were soft chuckles, pathetic joke attempts, and friendly nudges to pass the time. Their end of the day conversations were lazy, but always spiked with a few lessons learned.

“...And that is why you _never_ fire a nail gun into masonite when someone is still standing behind it.” Guy warned, stressing the importance with a forceful jab of his forefinger. Branch nodded diligently with understanding.

“Uh...thanks.” Branch swallowed. “That's...uhh... that's good to know.”  Guy chuckled and took a sip of his soda.

“So....how are you and Poppy getting along?” His voice sly and smooth, the undertone saturated in innuendo. “Is your friendship _developing_?” Branch's thoughts quickly churned into a swarm of memories—the touch of her slippery hand clinging to his as they climbed the ditch, the feather softness of her pink strands between his fingertips, and the taste of her sweet and salty skin against his lips.  All the sensations were still present to his senses--even now, days and weeks later.  It was overwhelming. Branch took another swig from the glass bottle—giving him time to form his reply.

“It's complicated.”  He mumbled, still lost to his mind.  

“How so?” Guy asked casually. Turning his bottle slowly in his hand, he watched the dark liquid swirl within.  Branch hunched his shoulders and let them fall back into place. Guy's forehead furrowed, disappointed with the boy's response.

“Make out with her yet?” Branch arched his head back and moaned at the audacity of the question.  But honestly, he should have seen that one coming.

“The hell Guy?!  That's NOT going to happen...” Guy bobbed his artistically scaped brows and a vibrating snicker hissed through his teasing smile.

“Oh, come'on, Branch. Aren't you interested in Poppy? ”

“What?” Branch gasped defensively.  He took another sip of pop and rubbed at his nape nervously. “Me?!  Pppffftttt...Nooooooooooo!  She's too...she's so...”  Branch stared at the ceiling, forgetting where he was headed with this.

“Poppy?” Guy grinned.

“Yeah...” Branch chuckled dreamily as the hard ice in his eyes melted. “So Poppy.”  Branch inhaled deeply and leaned his head against the metal support bar, resting the bottle between his thighs. “I mean—the girl cries glitter and probably bleeds rainbows, for god's sake. Hell, she could shoot silver sparkles out of her ass for all I know.”

Guy smiled.

“Wow. I admit, I wouldn't mind having _that_ super power.” Guy squinted into his own whimsical mind.  “I would have so much fun with that...” his voice trailed.Branch shook his head hopelessly.

“Guy, if I let you, you'd paint yourself in glitter and dance butt-naked through the street...”

Guy's face softened as he considered the image then nodded.

“That I would, my friend. That I would.”The boys sat quietly staring down at the half-built set.  Branch released a breath of air through puffed cheeks.

“Honestly, Guy, I'm not sure how to handle this friendship thing with Poppy.” He whispered shyly. “I...I haven't had any friends for a really...really long time.”Guy tilted his head to meet, Branch's face, but the blue-eyed boy turned away to avoid the connection.  Guy grinned softly.

“You know, bud... _I'm_ your friend.”

Branch smiled, a little self conscious at the turn the conversation had taken. “I know.” His lip twitched “Thanks.”

Guy brought the drink to his lips and sucked down a few gulps. After lowering the bottle, he sighed and readdressed his raven-haired coworker.

“Tell you what,” Guy nudged. “In a couple weeks, I'll take you out one night and introduce you to the Snack Pack.” Branch snapped back to his companion, his dark brow raised.

“The fuck is a Snack Pack?”

“It's a group of my friends, well, _our_ friends—Poppy included.”

“Snack Pack...” Branch repeated to himself, the syllables lingering on his tongue.  “Is that like Breakfast Club?”

Guy snorted into his pop and coughed.  When his airway cleared, he threw his head back, unleashing a full-hearted chortle that fluttered his blond curls between gasps.  “Even better!” Mildly intrigued, Branch gestured for him to continue.

“We've been together since middle school,” he smiled. The bottle in his hand began vibrating with excitement as he talked. Tiny bubbles released within the liquid and fizzled to the surface. “Oh Branch, if you get along with Poppy and myself, you are going to love them!” Branch couldn't help but laugh with Guy's enthusiasm.

“How many “snacks” are there in your pack?” Branch asked. Guy laughed himself, pleased Branch was open to the idea.  He scratched his head thoughtfully.

“Let's see,” Guy giggled, “There's myself, Poppy of course, Cooper, DJ, Creek..”

The bang of the metal theater door rang through the air--startling the boy's sights to off stage right. A tall, athletically built boy was climbing the steps.  He sported familiar pale, yellow pants and a sleeveless teal mesh shirt.  His features were clean...handsome and even the way he walked up stairs was charming. Upon reaching the top of the flight, the boy searched around the area curiously until his lavender eyes spotted the duo high above him.  

“Well...”Guy grinned slyly. “Speaking of the sexy devil...”

“Oh Shit!”  Branch gasped.

_What the hell is he doing here?!_

“I guess you've met Creek...” Guy chuckled. The sparkle boy lightly slapped Branch's back in a gesture for him to follow, before starting his descent down the ladder.

When his feet touched the floor, Guy swiftly made his way across the stage.  Creek gladly reached out to Guy's extending arm as he approached.  Their hands met and boys mutually pulled in for a welcomed hug.  

“You're looking well, bud” Guy swooned, scanning over Creek's sculpted chest.

“Thank you, love. It's always a fine day to find myself in your company.” His smooth voice radiating charisma. “But, in all honesty, Diamond, I'm not here to see you.”  They both turned to the blue-eyed boy as he jumped from the bottom rung of the ladder.

Creek's eyes turned sharp and calculating, preparing for the chess match of the minds that was sure to follow. “You and I, mate,” he called out--his lips firm. “We have a serious matter to discuss.” Branch continued his approach, but stopped short several feet away.

“Is it about how your pants are the color of stale piss?” Branch smirked.  “Figured you liked it that way.” Creek bit at his inner cheek.

“Are you always this stupid or are you making a special effort today?” Creek shot back cooly.

“Don't be an ass, Creek.”  Guy groaned, but the teal-haired boy ignored his friend's protests.

“So tell me, Branch, how does it feel, living with a head full of sticks?” Creek teasingly pointing to his messy, fly-away strands. The boy's blue eyes fired and stoked.

“How about I jab one in through your ear and you can tell me?” Branch asked, smiling devilishly.

“Oh Wow,” Guy gasped, pleasantly surprised. Creek rolled his eyes.

“Make you a deal, mate-” Creek’s lips pulled to an expression of discontent. “-you cut down on the sarcasm, and I won't make you feel stupid.”

Branch's upper lip coiled and untrimmed fingernails cut into his skin under trembling fists.

“Counter offer, I do whatever the hell I want and you go fuck yourself.” Fed up with the boy wasting his time, Creek stepped closer, his jaw clenched. Lavender stared down blue.

“I'm here to discuss Poppy.”

Branch struggled against the urge to back away. He knew what was coming, and this was not a conversation he wanted to have. His defensive default took over, and Branch's head instinctively wavered side to side on its hinge. He licked his lips anxiously.

“Look, I don't know what Poppy has told you...”

“Poppy tells me everything,”  Creek smug expression curled on his lips. “You and Poppy have been spending a notable amount time with each other.” Branch frowned.  

“What of it?” He asked, voice low.

“Tell me, love,” Creek's voice dropped.  He leaned forward so his thunderous eyes could bore into Branch—violating his very thoughts. “What exactly are your intentions with her?”

Branch's mouth pulled tight, the strong beats thumped rhythmically against his sternum.

“She's my friend.” There was a tingle of anticipation as the the words slipped over his tongue. Poppy was his friend.

Creek's unyielding focus continue to burrow into Branch's restless mind.

“I think she's more than that.” Creek whispered--his words cruel and taunting.

But, Branch caught a glint of jealousy in those lavender eyes.  Insecurities dissipated and the sour taste of disdain stung in his throat. There was something satisfying to know that Creek was aware Branch may have an advantage over him in this game.

“What's wrong Creep?” he growled “-afraid Poppy prefers the company of stray dogs over Ivy League graduates?”

Creek's eyes pinched slightly to the sudden wave of boldness welling in the boy before him.

“That is highly irrelevant.” he scoffed.

“Isn’t Poppy free to spend time with whom pleases?” Branch snarled, taking a daring step forward. “You have a problem with that?”  Creek sneered at the boy brass behavior that contrasted his filthy appearance.

“And you think you please her?” he mocked.  Branch ignored the flash of panic that clawed under his skin from the question.

“You have no right to control who she keeps company with, Creep!” Branch growled.

Creek's lids slitted. The worm's insults were turning into personal attacks to his character.  Sure, he was protective of Poppy, but above all, he prided himself on being respectful of her at all times.

“I'm aware of this, yes.” It gritted, baring his luminescent white teeth.

The atmosphere rumbled between the feuding pair and the thunder within rolled in their blood. Guy stood a few feet away, taking in the show with stupidly large grin stretched across his face. Creek caught a glimpse of Guy's relishing demeanor.

“You're enjoying this, Diamond?” Creek sneered. Guy leaned back against the stack of platforms and crossed his arms contently.  He flashed an easy and satisfied smile to his feather ruffled friend.

“Absolutely.”  Guy grinned. Creek shook his head and returned to glower at the ticking time bomb before him.

“It's curious,” Creek mentioned offhandedly to the sparkly observer.  “Being Poppy's best friend, you would think Branch would want to be in my good graces.” Guy shrugged with little concern.

“I don't think he cares what graces he lands in, Creek“ Guy chuckled. “Probably why he unnerves you so easily.” Creek snicked maliciously.

“And here I thought it was the result of his shallow gene pool...”

“Your gene pool could use a little chlorine.” Branch spat. Creek flustered and anger sparked all the way to his fingertips.

“You know, love, it's almost cute when you talk about things you don't understand...”

“The fact that no one understands _you_ doesn't make you intelligent—just makes you a dick.” Creek stepped closer, jaw tight, nerves writhing.

“Surprise me, mate,”  Creek's whisper hot and toxic “Say something intelligent...” Branch leaned in, their sweltering breathy puffs fighting for dominance.  

“Humor me, fucker,” Branch growled. “Drop dead!”  A low vibration resounded  from deep within Creek's throat, as he spoke softly through clenched teeth.

“Make me...” he dared.

The flexing muscles of their arms quivered under the tense strain and the torrent in their black eyes crashed like storming waves. Blood boiled in their vessels--sizzling in red flame on their skin. Inches from contact, Branch drew back his fist-

“Whoa-whoa,” Guy had stood up--waving his arms excitedly into the air. “Okay boys, playtime is over. Let's take a few minutes to cool the fireworks before this gets out of hand.”  At the touch of Guy's palm on his shoulder, the darkness in Creek's face subsided.  After a few forceful gasps, he  straightened his back and eventually folded his toned arms calmly over his chest.

“Guy is correct, I suppose,” Creek uttered reluctantly. “Let's try this another way...”

Creek snatched a wood rung chair from the wall and dragged it 10 feet to where boys stood.  The raven-haired boy flinched as Creek swung the chair around Branch's side where it came to a stop just behind his legs. Creek took a quick, distancing step back, snapped his fingers and pointed to the chair.

“Sit,” Creek instructed. Branch stared dumbfounded, his eyebrows cocked unevenly.

“You've gotta be shitting me,” Branch muttered. Creek took a cleansing breath through his nose and out through taught lips.

“No, Mate, I am not _shitting_ you—nor I am requesting.” Fire sparked and crackled in his lavender eyes. “Sit.”

Branch ground his teeth, fists balled at the impertinence of being commanded like a dog.

“Like hell I'm going...”

In flash, a Creeks palms were on Branch's chest and sweeping foot hit the back of his knee—causing Branch's legs gave out.  His rump hit hard against the wooden seat which  momentarily left him wide eyed and dazed. Branch stared up at Creek like a puppy who had just had their snout smacked with a newspaper.

Creek retreated another step then patiently waited for Branch's temper to find him.  It didn't take long. Branch's face contorted in a flurry of emotions—all of them fighting to hide his vast embarrassment.  His dark brows lowered over the blue of his eyes as glared murderously up at this opponent.

“Touch me again, Creep, and I'll break your hand.” Creek's lavender eyes rolled at the empty threat.

“I find that unlikely.” His exterior cool and collected.  “You may be feisty Branch, but I have health, strength, and extensive martial arts training on my side.  You stand no chance in a physical altercation.”

“I'll take that risk,” Branch seethed. He started to push himself up, but Guy's soft hands suddenly clamped onto his shoulders and held Branch tight to his seat.

“What the fuck?!”  Branch barked, trying to shake the boy's grip away, “Let me go!”

“Cool it, bud.” Guy patted the boy's arms lightly in attempt to sooth his internal fire. “I'm not in the mood to clean up a blood spill today.  Just hear him out.”

Branch grunted –gripping the chair diligently to keep himself from taking a swing at his friend.  Creek watched the raven-haired boy with morbid interest as if he were a sideshow anomaly.  

“Oh, don't get your undies in a kerfuffle, boy.” Creek waved, speaking with his usual self-righteous flare. “I have an agenda I mean to pursue that requires your assistance. However, you have an annoyingly short fuse and I prefer to keep you in a manageable position until we can muddle our way to an accord.” The ice of Branch's hard eyes met Creeks. Agitation stung every nerve like drops of acid raining down on him.

“If you have something to say, Creep, spit it out.”

 Creek scoffed with mild amusement.

“I don't like you.”

“I don't give a shit,” Branch snapped.

“I think your temper is a problem.”

Branch chuckled coldly, “Tell me something I don't know.”

Creek leaned closer to be certain Branch heard the next statement clearly. “Poppy can do better than you.” He smiled viciously.

Branch frowned. He had no recourse to that.  The rapture of swirling thoughts returned and invaded his conscience like billowing shadows—who she was, who he wasn't, what he wished they could be, and what he knew they never could. He had nothing to offer her.  Poppy was bright and intelligent.  He had no doubt that options flocked to her like kittens to spilled sweet cream. Creek sneered at Branch's fallen disposition.

“What--no protests? No venom laced words of hatred?” Creek purred like a leopard toying with its meal.Branch's eyes narrowed and hair prickled up his neck.

“I wouldn't say I hate you.”  Branch growled through gnashing teeth. “But if you were hit by a bus...I would totally be driving that bus.”

Creek edged close to Branch's cheek.  His voice brushed through his hair and froze the edge of his ear.

“I saw you two the other night... here at the theater” he stated lowly  “I watched you.”

Guy raised his brows high.

“D-damn, Creek,” he stuttered.  “Even I have to admit, that's pretty creepy.”

“I wasn't watching Poppy,” Creek hummed.  His lavender eyes narrowed, boring aggressively into Branches.  “I was watching him.”

“Uhhh....yeah.” Guy's silvery wide eyes flicked between the two boys who were locked in each others' sights “Not any less creepy there, buddy.”

Creek was so near, virtually caressing  Branch's skin with his breath. “I saw the way you look at her...  The way you touch her.” Branch's ability to talk drained along with the blood in his cheeks. The ice blue of his eyes peaking out from the floppy onyx tufts was the only color that remained in his paled expression.

“You are in love with her.”

Branch snapped back against the chair and his mind whiplashed. “W—What?!”

Guy's lips pursed in giddy anticipation of Branch's response. Branch buttoned his mouth shut, but his face bloomed to a deep crimson. Creek smirked.

“I figured as much.”  The burning blush returned the fire to the Branch's temper.

“You can't possibly know that!” Branch screeched.  His body felt as if were bursting from the inside. Guy raises his hand high--his smile dazzling

“I knew!” He sang.

Branch stared horrified at his friend—puffing from the betrayal.  

“So, what are your intentions with Poppy?” Creek inquired bitterly, taking the time to taste every syllable. There was no place to go.  There was nowhere to hide.  And now, there was nothing left to deny.  It was in that moment that the last of Branch's wall collapsed. He was done.  He didn't want to play this game any more.

“Look, Creek,” he erupted in a broken explosion “—whatever you think you saw?   Nothing happened!  I swear—I would NEVER try to fuck up Poppy's relationship with her boyfriend!”  Branch's face was hot and flustered.  He didn't know whether he wanted to cry or smash something.  He only knew that he couldn't look away from that powerful, opposing stare.  He waited in deafening silence for something to happen.  But what did happen, was the last thing Branch expected.

“Boyfriend?”  Guy whispered into the still air. “Who is her...”

Guy glanced at Creek whose predatory orbs remained fixed on the boy fidgeting anxiously in his chair.  Guy eyed Creek, waiting for him to respond.  He didn't.

“Seriously?” Guy strained.  “You're just going to leave it like that?”

“Not my concern.”

Guy said nothing but continued to stare accusingly at the teal-haired boy. Creek rolled his tongue against his teeth.

“The buffoon is free to assume as he likes if he doesn't possess the bollocks to ask.”

“Come on Creek!”  Guy scowled. “The leap isn't _that_ extraordinary.  The gooey flirtiness between you two makes even me a bit nauseous sometimes.”

Creek shrugged innocently.  By now, Branch's eyes were unable to focus and his breaths had quickened to keep up with his racing heart.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Branch uttered, feeling a bit disorientated. “I'm...uh...little lost here.”

“Story of your life...” Creek murmured to himself with a smirk.

“Shut it, Creek!” Guy snapped. Creek's arching brows knotted to Diamond's outburst.

Guy groaned, running his fingers through his flowing curls to the back of his neck.  

“Damn you can be such an ass.” Guy mumbled.  “Branch...” Guy paused to give the boy a chance to lock eye contact. Once it was established, he continued carefully and slowly.

“Creek _isn't_ Poppy's boyfriend.”

Branch's muscles went slack as the electrical firing within his neural pathways short-circuited.

“H-He's not...what?”

“Will you PLEASE stop encouraging his mind wander Diamond?” Creek growled, stuffing his hands into his hair. “It might forget to come back!”  Creek drew his sweaty hands from his hair and fastened them to his hips.  “Branch, again,” he groaned. “What are your intentions with Poppy?”

“B-but...” Branch's eyes flashed back and forth between the duo--growing more frenzied by the moment.  “B-But you guys hug a-a-and   _kiss_..”

Creek smirked, allowing himself to enjoy the spectacle of Branch's mind mercilessly unraveling like snagged pantyhose.

“She calls you the love of her life!”  The whirl of adrenaline fueled confusion gripped at his vocal cords and Branch couldn't help but voice several decibels louder than he had intended. Desperate blue eyes looked to Guy, begging for confirmation that his brain was denying him.

Guy smiled and shook his head. “They're not together, bud.”

Branch looked to Creek for collaboration.  The teal-haired boy's eyes were fixed and hard, like deep amethyst crystal, and just as unfeeling. Seeing no assistance from his friend, Guy took it a step further. With a mischievous glimmer toward Creek, Guy coned his hands around his mouth.

“They play for the same team....” Guy exaggeratedly whispered.

The lavender-eyed boy glanced momentarily at Guy, then back to Branch,. Irritation swelled in Creek's chest due to Diamond continuing to distract the boy from his question.

Branch's mind was caught in a haze of moments when he held himself back.  Moments he could have held her closer, tighter...moments when he was almost certain she wanted him to kiss her. But he didn't.  He didn't because he thought...

Guy crossed his arms and waited patiently for Branch's mental processes to catch up.

 _She has a boyfriend--she has a boyfriend- she...doesn't...have a boyfriend.  Wait—same team?_ The fog melted away and Branch quickly raked over the conversation.  His wide eyes darted between Guy and Creek before settling on his clearly annoyed interrogator.

“You're...gay?” Branch asked, surprise dripping from his voice. Creek stared coldly at Guy who gave it no mind.

“Not that it's any of your bloody businesses...” He growled, still glaring at the sparkle boy with the big, fat mouth.  Guy tilted his head sweetly and returned a 'whatcha gonna do about it' grin. Creek looked back at Branch, rolling his tongue against his cheek.  “But, yes.”

“Huh.” Branch released a puff of air he was unaware he had been holding in. “Poppy...uh...” The raven-haired boy cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Poppy never mentioned that.”

Guy laughed, covering his eyes to keep from tearing up.

“Why would she?” He chuckled “Do you introduce people by their sexual orientation?”

Branch looked to the floor, the color of embarrassment consuming his features.

“I, uh... I guess you've got a point there.”

Creek stepped closer to Branch, whose mind was still struggling to find ground.  His back straightened to reaffirm his dominance in the conversation.

“So I ask you again, Mate, what are you intentions with Poppy?”

A pressure that had been building in his chest for weeks suddenly decompressed followed by a swell of nervous hope.  Branch's vulnerable blue eyes returned hesitantly to Guy.

“So...Poppy's” He swallowed dryly “..single?”

Creek smacked his hands to his face and groaned.  Gingerly, he pushed his fingers to his aching temples. “For fuck sake, Mate. TRY to stay on point, here!”

“Yeessss...” Guy smirked. “Poppy's single.” Branch said nothing, but anxiously rubbed at his thighs. Diamond observed the twitchy, restless boy, while Creek crossed his arms tightly in angry frustration.

“Branch!” Creek snapped, his voice echoing through the empty theater.

The boy's lost eyes looked up to Creek. Carefully, the teal-haired boy tried again.

“Branch...” he spoke slowly.  “What are your intentions with Poppy?”

Those six little words whirled like drunken butterflies in his head—giggling nonsensically and bumping into walls.  Suddenly, the optional answers to that question were endless.  How could he possibly choose one? Guy knelt down beside the boy. Branch looked to him, unblinking.

“Do you love her, Branch?” Guy smiled.  “Do you love Poppy?” Branch didn't need to think to answer.  He nodded.

“Are you going to hurt her?” Creek ground into the exchange.Branch shook his head in response.

Creek clicked his tongue to his teeth, watching the boy's distressed mannerisms carefully for several seconds.  Finally, he spoke.

“I believe you, Branch,” He assured. Branch raised his view questionably.

“Because as impulsive, flappy and vulgar as that mouth of yours is, I don't take you for a liar.”  Then, Creek lowered himself beside Guy and continued.

“But if you _do_ lie to me...” his timbre evil and menacing “If you break one of her precious heart strings .   I ...will...snap...you.” Branch swallowed uneasily.

_Wow...a real death threat..._

Satisfied with their progress, Creek and Guy rose to their feet to ponder their next move.

“You know, Creek,” Guy nudged. “He's pretty green when it comes to love.  There is a fair chance he's going unintentionally fuck things up.”  Creek nodded in agreement.  

“He needs help, Diamond.” Branch's rounded face was confused and slightly fearful.  Poppy.  What was he going to do about Poppy? He fiddled like a child in a time-out chair—glancing between the two boys who talked as if he were a science experiment. Then, after a quick check of his watch, Creek stretched his long arms over his head and groaned.

“Be a dear and finish up with him for me will you?” Creek cooed sweetly, his smile again smug and relaxed.  “I'm late to teach my evening class.”

“You got it, bud!”  Guy finger gunned his lavender-eyes friend as he headed back toward the steps.  Suddenly, Creek stopped and turned.

“Oh, and Branch?” he called back. Branch met his gaze blankly in return.

“Thank you.” Creek grinned.  Branch's brow crinkled and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“For what?”

Creek leaned into his coy smile.

“For thinking I'm beautiful,” he chuckled flirtatiously. Branch lowered his chin and blushed--his skin fuming.  

“I already knew of course,” Creek smirked, “but it's still nice to hear.” Creek retreated down the steps and the stage door slammed closed.  

“That was fun.”  Guy smiled to himself. With a deep, cleansing breath, Guy turned to his coworker.  

“So, about our favorite strawberry princess...” Guy pressed. Branch visibly winced.

“Thing is Guy,” he exhaled gently, “Even if she _is_ single, that doesn't change anything.  Poppy is smart and successful. Think of the damage a gray troll like me could do to her rainbow world. Poor Poppy would spend every waking moment ensuring I smiled every ten minutes and received an hourly hug time.” Branch's head dropped to his chest. “Besides, from what you've said before, her family wouldn't approve of an asshole nobody like me anyway.”

“Branch?” Guy asked softly. “You honestly think that any of that matters a damn to Poppy?” The blue-eyed boy's reserves melted at the thought.  The answer clearly reflected in his smile.

Branch threw his head back and groaned. “She sees her life in fuchsia and sprinkles. What could I possible bring to table?”

Guy took a minute to think over the question, before his eyes lit up, sparkling like the glitter gel highlighting his blond curls.

“Why don't you try returning the favor?” Guy suggested.

“What?” Branch arched his brow at the sparkle boy. Guy's face perked and his circling hands gestured wildly through the air.

“Bring a little color into Poppy's life! Throw some of own rainbow sparkle magic back her way for a change!” Branch forced his pessimism down, leaving barely enough energy to spread a tired grin.

“I wish I could, Guy. I really do.” He sighed. “But I have no idea how.”

“Hey, hey hey—chin up Grumpy pants.” Guy encouraged. “Look, you've been spending time with Poppy, haven't you? You must know what she likes—what she wants.”  Guy gripped Branch's shoulders, tussling them gently with each word. “What makes Poppy happy?”

Branch shrugged, then looked into the silver lined eyes of his friend. “You two are buddies. Shouldn't you know?”  Guy closed his lids, shaking his head respectfully.

“It has to come from you, my man.”

Branch eyes glazed as he recalled the last few weeks.  Her gentle smile as they watched the sunset.  Her playful screams when they splashed in the pool under the city. Her flowing giggles as they ran through the glittering field of fireflies.  Moments Branch had let his walls crumble.

Branch raised his brow and cocked a half smile, hope exploding like a gas-lit bonfire in his chest . 

“I have an idea.” he whispered. Guy clenched his fists with excitement and pumped them to his chest.

“Then let's DO THIS!” Guy held out his balled hand.  Branch mirrored the motion and fist bumped his friend.  But after a moment, Branch raised his brow in a quizzical expression.

“And...rainbow magic?” Branch inquired uncertainly.

Guy beamed. “Just leave that to me...”

 

Poppy stood in her bedroom, her sweet and spunky voice carrying out the notes blaring from her ipod.

 _I'm bringin' sexy back (yeah)_  
_Them other boys don't know how to act (yeah)_  
_I think it's special, what's behind your back (yeah)_ _  
_ So turn around and I'll pick up the slack

She twirled and danced to the music.  Her hips thrusted side to side smoothly and sensually with each beat of the song as she tossed dirty laundry into the wicker basket next to her bed.

Just then, the device on her desk dingled its familiar ring. After pausing the music, Poppy answered her phone without hesitation.

“Poppy here—pink, pretty and loving life!”  She sang.

“Do you always answer the phone in this manner?”   Poppy's amber eyes stretched, and she quickly slapped her hand over her gaping mouth to muffle a yelp. The voice on the other end was strong, elegant but firm.  It carried with it a chill that spidered and slithered up Poppy's spine.  She rapidly sucked in several breaths to compose herself.  Carefully, Poppy lowered her voice to a calm and respectful tone.

“Chef,  I didn't know...I wasn't expecting you to call...” Poppy desperately attempted to swallow the stubborn lump stuck to the wall of her throat.  “I was pleased to hear your newest endeavor is proving profitable..”

“I didn't take time from my busy day for pleasantries, dear.” her aunt cut her off like a meat cleaver.  “I heard that you have gotten yourself into a situation Poppy.”

Her jaw dropped. Chef knew.  Poppy shuddered anxiously when her stomach jumped into her gullet.

“I haven't-”

“Are you dating him?”

“Um....” Poppy chewed at her quivering lower lip.  “Who?”

“Do _not_ get smart with me young lady!” Chef snapped  “You know who.”

Poppy's chest heaved in raspy, uneven breaths.

“What?  No, we're...we're friends. Just friends.”

 No boy is “just friends” with a girl.  Especially a girl such as yourself.”  The patriarch groaned into the receiver. “You are a sweet but simple child, Poppy. This makes you prime and easy pray for a boy of his _background_. Do you think he doesn't see dollar signs when he smiles at you?” Though her Aunt couldn't see her, Poppy shook her bubblegum curls violently side to side.

“He's not like that Aunt Lucia...”

“Chef!” her elder growled. Poppy ducked her head instinctively.

“Chef.” Poppy whispered in return.

“Poppy, you can't go around picking up stray, sick puppies and dragging them home. You are just starting your career.  And I don't want you throwing it all away on a...on a... What does he do?”

“He's a student.”

Chef scoffed. A fire sparked and rumbled in Poppy's belly.  The girl scowled fiercely and her gripping knuckles turned white against the phone in her trembling hand.

“Yes, he's a student!” She screeched. “Even though he may not live past the next 10 years, he is _still_ trying to improve himself! He's funny...and smart..and considerate!  He's...” Poppy's choked. “H- He's my friend—”

“He is not your friend, Poppy!” Chef's powerful and bitter words immediately drained the fuel from the girl's boiling passion.  “He is a sick patient at your place of work.  It is your duty to care for his medical needs and nothing more!  It is in your best interest-- professional and personal--to remember that.” she snarled.

“B-but...I...I...”  Poppy bit her lip.  So afraid of what she wanted to say next.

“This is not something to take lightly young lady!” Chef boomed. “You could lose your job over this!  You could lose your license!  Do you have any idea how damning that would be to your future?!”

Poppy said nothing.  Her skin was hot and shaking--liquid glass blurred her vision.

“You are NOT to see that boy again outside of work!”

Silence.  Poppy's held her breath as tears budded and swelled at the corner of her eyes.

“Wait—t-that's not--” she squeaked.

“NOT. AGAIN.  Understand?!”  Poppy's pulse pounded in her temples and pressure crushed at her breathless lungs.

“I...I understand.” She whispered.

“Then I will consider this matter resolved and I do not want to hear of you playing Russian roulette with your future again.  Do you hear me, young lady?”

“Yes Chef.”

Silence hung on the other end of the line, followed by a reluctant sigh.

“Please know, my dear, I only want what's best for you.  Great opportunities lie at your feet and I don't want you to miss out. I do love you, my girl.”

“Yes, Chef.  I know.” Poppy swallowed, mindless and numb.  “I love you too.”

“Good. I will talk with you again soon, Poppy.  Goodnight.”

_Click_

The girl stared absently at the beige carpet until the silence ended with a screeching dial tone buzzing in her ear.

Poppy's face contorted, pinched and the tortuous ache in her chest tightened and twisted through her body like icy tentacles.  Unable to hold control the damn shattered and a flood of stinging tears released.  She collapsed into her pillow in an endless stream of sobs, washing away the glitter and color from her cheeks.

A chiming, musical diddy rang through the strawberry scented air or her bedroom.  The defeated girl reached for her phone, sniffing as she swiped over the surface.

New Message:

Sender: Branch

“ _Meet me tomorrow, 8 pm at Burtness Theater.”_  

Poppy stared at her phone, eyes swollen and glassy.  Her fingers smoothed affectionately over the message on the lit screen. Slowly, she typed out her reply. Every letter of her response sliced deeper at her heart.

_“I'll be there”_

With the last of her dying resilience, Poppy pressed 'send'. This was it. This would be her chance. 

She had to put things back to the way they were suppose to be...the way they had to be.

 


	14. Music and Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whew--got through it! Special thanks to R3-0 that introduced me to a new editing technique that proved to be VERY useful!  
> I hope you enjoy the chapter. WARNING--This one may hurt.

Little feet tapped over the sidewalk as Poppy made her way across the campus with only flickering lamps to give her encouragement. When she approached the foreboding old theater, her pace slowed. Hesitantly, the girl took her last few steps toward the building entrance and stopped.

Poppy took a deep breath. She was here for one thing--for one reason. But Poppy knew that just because her goal is clear, doesn't mean the path to reach it will be any less difficult. Poppy had run through what she planned to say a thousand times in her head. The words had kept her up most of the night and after a crazy double shift, she was overly exhausted both mentally and physically. Still, this had to be done. Poppy found herself taking one more moment... to hope. She hoped it would be like ripping off a band-aid, and that Branch would be understanding about her position and why things had to be the way they are. But most of all, she desperately hoped for the conviction to back up her responsibilities.

Poppy reached for the door, but paused and looked down at her clothes.

Her scrubs were wrinkly. Her low back was beaded in sweat from wearing a plastic isolation gown for the last hour of her shift. She probably smelled. Poppy reluctantly touched her head.

_Oh my gosh._

Poppy grabbed the pink, sequined scrunchie and pulled it away from her scalp. Poppy winced when tiny hairs still stuck in the elastic tugged and ripped as she dragged it down her ponytail until it was free and the strands hung disheveled about her shoulders. Poppy lowered her head and flipped her pink, tangled mess forward so it hung down in front of her.

Hastily, Poppy went to work combing out the snarls. Running her fingers through the haphazard curls, she separated the knots with her short nails. When her task was complete, she threw her pink locks back over her shoulder and fluffed the top and sides with rapid, ruffling fingertips. Sneaking a peak over her shoulder and then the other, Poppy discreetly lifted her arm and sniffed. Her freckled nose crinkled and she groaned. Grabbing strawberry-scented body spray from her back pocket, she gave herself a couple generous spritzes.

“Always prepared.” She sang to herself. But when she looked back to the small bottle in her hand, time stopped. Poppy's smile fell as she thought about the first time she heard that expression...and the boy who had said it.

With a flick of her neck, the girl shrugged off those distracting feelings. She was on a mission. After a quick skim of lip gloss and few undergarment adjustments, she was ready.

With a final, deep breath, she knocked on the heavy, metal stage door. The hollow clang echoed, but did not appear to stir any movement within. After several seconds with no response, Poppy began to wonder if she had misunderstood their meeting time. Suddenly, she heard the light metallic click of someone pressing the release bar from the other side.

Branch opened the door.  He wore dark slacks and a royal blue button-down dress shirt. His hair was still wispy and wild but less reckless than usual.  His eyes sparkled with anticipation in the illumination of the streetlamp.

“Poppy!  You made it!” He chimed-- anxiously excited.

“Wow.” Poppy absent mindlessly looked her over her companion. “You look...is that hair gel?”

“A little,” Branch pouted as he reached up and nervously touched is freshly manicured mane. “Does it not work?”

“No-no.” Poppy smiled. “It looks good... really good.” Poppy experienced a powerful urge to extend her arm and touch the styled raven waves, but she fought against it.

They stood quietly in the silver light of the street lamp as the passing moments became more awkward.

“Sssooo...it's a little late to be working...”

“Right-right,” Branch flustered “Come'on in.” He held the door open and allowed Poppy to enter.

“How was your day?” Poppy asked as they climbed the concrete stairs--consciously trying to avoid the topic festering in the back of her mind.

“It was a little rough,” Branch shrugged. “I only scored a B- on my on my term paper.”

“Oh?”

“It was on the sociological implication of adapting a community centered survivalist lifestyle. My work was worth a solid A, but Professor Gristle has it out for me because I may have told him to go screw himself earlier this semester.” Branch groaned. “Dude just can't let it go...”

“Huh.  That's too bad.” Poppy sighed heavily—unintentionally pulling Branch's visual attention to her. “I'm feeling a little gray today myself.”

Branch cocked his head and smirked.

“I must be contagious, huh?” he teased. Poppy forced a weak smile.

Branch led her through the inner doors and around the far side of the theater where they paused.

The building was dark, except for a golden spot light center stage.  Branch grasped Poppy's hand in his and took her to that very spot where he stopped and turned to face her. Poppy looked around the theater.  It was empty.

“Branch? What are we doing?”

The boy gazed into her bewildered eyes and tried to calm the butterflies that were fluttering their way up his throat.

“I brought you here because I needed to tell you something.” Branch swallowed , His chest heaving with excitement and legs rigid out of fear they would give out beneath him. “You have been so kind and patient with me these last couple months. And...and I want you to know how much it has meant to me...how much you have meant to me.”

Every endearing sentence from his lips was excruciating to Poppy's ears.

“Branch...” she tried to stop him. This is not how Poppy wanted this meeting to start off.

But Branch pressed his finger swiftly to her lips.

“Please,” Branch knew he had to get through this before he lost his nerve. “Let me finish.”

Poppy sadly gave in to his request. She closed her mouth and crossed her arms protectively over her chest--ready to take the boy's kindness that jabbed like bayonets at her flawed personality.

“I thought I'd try a little of your “have no regrets” mentality.” He grinned. “And, maybe, try bring a little color into your world for a change. Return the favor and all?”

 Poppy cocked her head in confusion. She took another hurried look of her surroundings, unsure of what he was talking about.

Slowly, Branch extended his hand high into the air above him then froze--holding steady. Poppy's large eyes darted between Branch's hand and the sky of his eyes.

Branch pinched his lower lip between his teeth, then, silently, he pressed his center finger tightly to his thumb. The boy looked one final time into Poppy's large, quizzical amber eyes and smiled.

*Snap *

A blast of white exploded over the couple. Poppy flinched from the sudden and blinding glow that enveloped her. But the flash instantly broke and filtered into a thousand beams of colored light that began swirling in unison around the stage. The display shattered the darkness, creating a vivid rotating kaleidoscope of luminescent hues.

Poppy was overwhelmed with the fluttering rainbow display and Branch took this chance to admire the girl in front of him.  Her dilated eyes where wide and wondrous, unable to completely take in the magic that surrounded her.  Gasps of laughter escaped her glossy lips. It was if they were standing in the center of the living Milkyway. He had never seen Poppy look so happy.

Branch rubbed the back of his neck anxiously before offering his open hand to the girl.

He grinned, his lips twitching nervously. But his voice was solid and clear. Right now, Branch knew what he wanted more than anything else.

“Would you do the honor of giving me my first dance?”

Poppy's eyes were wide. Any words of refusal or argument were lost to the graceful swirling rainbows. She managed to nod and placed her hand carefully in his. Branch's comforting fingers wrapped around her hand, gently embracing it in his own **—** sealing her decision.

“But...there's no music...” Poppy whispered, still dazzled by the scene.

Resting the girl's palm firmly to his chest, Branch inhaled deeply. His thundering heart drove waves of fire through his veins. He pulled her close. Branch stroked softly over the curve of Poppy's face before tracing down her figure and holding fast to the bend of her hip.

They're faces were so close, no words could be lost between them. The boy's voice was low and sultry and a shiver hummed its way up Poppy's spine when he spoke.

“We make our own music...”

The reflecting glowing flashes shimmered in her eyes as they passed over Poppy's face.  This lighting suited her. Branch pressed his body to the girl. Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck and found herself paralyzed by the deep adoration the pulsed in his sky blues.

Branch took his first bold step and the girl followed. Blushing cheek to blushing cheek, hearts pounded in a race against the other. Branch nestled his face a little deeper into the pink cottony strands. He couldn't believe it. Poppy was here, with him, cradled in his arms. Branch wanted to scream it to the world. He pressed his hand to the back of Poppy's head and lovingly smoothed the delicate curls to the shape of her neck.

After several rotations and entranced by the enchantment of the moment, Poppy lay her head against the boy's chest and closed her eyes--letting her responsibilities of the moment be melted by her partners body heat.

Delicate wisps of dancing rainbow starlight swirled around the stage and the couple.  Branch held her tight as they turned in soft circles.  Her head against him, his heart hammering wildly into her ear.   Poppy couldn't help but smile.

“This is nice,” she whispered. “Even if there is no melody.” Branch grinned as Poppy snuggled into the his silk shirt.

After a few moments, a low sound vibrated into the silence. So quiet at first, Poppy never heard it start.

“ _You with the sad eyes..._ ”

Her lids lifted, momentarily unsure of where the music was coming from.

“ _Don't be discouraged..._ ”

The emotion in his angelic voice swelled like an approaching wave.  It reverberated in his chest and lightly echoed through the empty theater.

“ _Oh I realize...”_

Branch cleared his throat.

“ _It's hard to take courage_

_In a world full of people_

_you can loose sight of it all_

_the darkness inside you_

_Can make you feel so small...”_

 

Branch drew back and with his hand on her chin, he lifted Poppy's face and fixed her trembling gaze.

Soft but intense, layer by layer unfolding, Poppy fell into those crystal blue eyes, disappearing under the waves as it stole her breath away.

“ _Show me a smile then_

_Don't be unhappy_

_Can't remember when_

_I last saw you laughing._

_This world makes you crazy...”_

Branch crossed his eyes and Poppy's sparkling giggle filled the air between them. Tilting her face adoringly she watched his lips with joy and amazement.

“ _And you've taken all you can bare...”_

With a shaky hand he caressed her crimson, sparkling cheek.

“ _Just, call me up_

_Cause I will always be there.”_

Stretching his arm wide, Branch led his princess in imperial twirls over the stage, around and around, in spinning imperfect but passionate circles. Her glittered cheeks caught the light like sequence, spinning through the endless magical starlight.

“ _And I see your true colors_

_Shining through...”_

His voice was everywhere. Dancing over her skin, skittering through her racing heart that swelled and ached within her chest. Transcendent notes, so carefully created, swirling in the darkness of the old theater. His voice sang for her. Just for her and she pulled him tighter, never wanting to let go.

“ _I see your true colors...”_

Branch's entire body was fueled with electifying anticipation. Seven little words screamed in his heart—demanding to be spoken. He nuzzled into her wild, curly pink tendrils, smelling the strawberry and vanilla that tickled the tip of his tongue. His lips brushed the edge of her lobe—ready to take the final leap. His voice was no longer singing, but speaking in sweet puffs into her ear.

“ _...And that's why I love you.”_

 The last line was Poppy's whiplash back into reality.

_Oh God._

She yanked herself away from the comfort of his warm body. Frightened and disgusted with herself, Poppy took a few more steps to widen the gap between them.  
Branch twitched nervously, brows knotted, confused.

“T-this needs to stop.” Poppy stuttered. “I can't do this.”

Branch's eyes narrowed and his lips twisted in fearful anguish. He hugged his chest—being suddenly separated from her felt so empty.

“What? What is it? Did I...” Branch gulped, afraid to ask. “Did I do something wrong?” His reply only stabbed deeper at her resolve.

“You...me...”she choked. “I-I can't...it's not going to happen, Branch.” There was so much more Poppy wanted to say, but at this point, there were no words that would justify what she had done to him.

“Poppy” Branch reached for her, but Poppy countered his action to maintain the distance. At seeing her disgusted recoil, Branch stopped, embarrassed. Poppy probably thought this whole evening was just a silly friendship gesture. He was foolish to think he could ever win her affections. Perhaps he had been mistaken about her feeling. Perhaps he had been mistaken..about everything. But even if everything he had believed was wrong, and all he had hoped for had been in vane, Branch knew he would never again have this chance.

“Poppy?” Branch whispered. “Poppy look at me.” Poppy didn't want to. Poppy didn't want to face the damage she was certain that her plan was going to cause. However, the girl (at very least) owed Branch eye contact while she did it. A bombardment of shame gripped at her chest as Poppy forced her view to the boy.

There he stood before her. Honest, raw, and vulnerable. No barriers, no sarcasm...just Branch. He was beautiful. The boy shrugged his shoulders, raising his arms then dropping them helplessly to his side.

“I may not have much to offer.” Branch spoke softly. “My world is broken and complicated. I know I don't deserve you.”

Branch gingerly walked towards her.

“But I love you, Poppy” Branch touched her delicate dangling curls between his quivering fingertips. Poppy's chest heaved sharply and tears were tumbling down her flushing cheeks.

“And I will give everything I have to prove that to you every moment of every day. I don't know how long my heart will beat...but it is all yours if you want it.” Branch stepped closer to Poppy and pressed his forehead to hers. A passionate spark ignited between them on contact and his loving embrace enveloped her.

“I'm not afraid any more,” he whispered. “You told me once, that happiness is inside all of us. And with you in my arms, I have found enough to outlast a lifetime.”

“M-m-my...my job, Branch...” Poppy flustered, but was cut off by a reluctant sob. Branch squeezed her tighter before pulling away.

“Shhhh. Don't be scared, Poppy. ” He cupped her face in his soothing hands—brushing the tear streaks from her skin. “We can do this.” Branch smiled like summer sunshine. “You could transfer to a different facility, or maybe to the hospital...” Poppy shook her head sadly.

“Branch...”

The corners of the boy's orbs crinkled as exciting ideas flowed freely. “After college, I'll find a better job...”

“Branch...stop.” Poppy begged, but he still didn't hear her.

“You could go back to school if you want. You can spend your days drawing and painting! You can become an artist just like you've dreamed...”

That was enough. In an angry explosion, Poppy shoved Branch as hard as she could.

“STOP IT!!” She screamed. When the boy had regained his balance, his jaw hung slack, shocked by the girl's furious, lashing tongue.

They stood in deafening silence, glassy eyes locked in the churning rainbow starlight. The piercing agony was relentless and Poppy felt as if her tongue were a chunk of wet wool rolling in her mouth. Branch's thoughts scattered like dandelion fluff in the wind—impossible to catch. He was an innocent and unintentional victim in her botched plan. Poppy couldn't remember the last time she had lied. She was honest by nature and Poppy firmly believed that there was never reason good enough to do so...until now. Poppy swallowed thickly, closed her eyes and braced herself for the onslaught cruelty she was about to rain down.

“I don't want to be with you, Branch,” Poppy said quietly, though it resonated louder than a clash of thunder to Branch's ears. The ominous silence of his shattering spirit only fanned Poppy's torment.

Branch stared wide-eyed and bewildered. He shook his head slowly, unwilling to believe her.

“You don't want me?”

Poppy frowned, steady in her position. Branch wanted to close the distance, but was left petrified.

“Are you telling me that you feel nothing?” Branch croaked, his words wavering with compounding worry about how this conversation will end. The desire to take it back was fierce, but Poppy had made her decision. Poppy straightened her torso, absorbing false strength into her response.

“Nothing.”

The conformation was like jagged rocks grinding to his fresh wound. Branch winced as anxiety swarmed and clawed at his thoughts. He closed his eyes, tilted his head, despair was pricking and slicing through every corner of his body like shards of a broken mirror. The promise of tears burned behind his eyes and he squeezed them harder to keep them at bay. It took several tense minutes for Branch to regain enough composure to speak.

“Okay.” he replied--his voice weak and hollow.

But acceptance only mildly lessened the sting of the situation. It required all of Branch's strength to resist the urge to throw himself at the feet of his princess and beg her for a change of heart.

“I'll be fine.” Though his statement was a clear as glass, there was a shadow of strain, as if he were holding his voice from cracking. Had he honestly expected a different ending? Branch rubbed his hands against flushed nape, fighting the nausea that rumbled and turned in his stomach. A wet sniff and a few calming puffs later, Branch nodded reluctantly. The boy reached out and tickled his fingertips over Poppy's arm, his expression thoughtful.

“I understand.” He gazed into the golden circles he adored. “We can just be friends.”

Poppy said nothing, but her back stiffened defensively. She angled her body away from the boy and dropped her view to the theater floor, frowning. The realization hit branch over the head like a frying pan. Mounting alarm scratched and crawled under his skin.

“Poppy?!” Branch choked. “ _Tell me_ we're still friends...”

Poppy said nothing, but avoidance confirmed Branch's nightmare. He latched onto Poppy's hand.

“No...no no no no...wait...wait Poppy... don't...” Branch whimpered, his mind clouding over. The boy grasped and fumbled at Poppy's fingers, desperate to hold onto a sliver of hope.

“Don't do this...” he begged. The corners of Branch's mouth trembled and twitched-- threatening to loose all control, but he held on.

Poppy's usually confident shoulders sank in defeat, lip quivered with guilt, too ashamed to meet his pleading face.

“Why are you making this harder on me, Branch?” she asked quietly. “It has to be this way...”

Hope snapped and cracked like thin river ice under Branch's feet. Frantic gasps escaped between pitiful whining breaths. He looked into Poppy's beautiful, gold-kissed eyes, lashes soaked in misery.

“Please...” he cried softly.

Branch's sorrow was unbearable and Poppy pulled from his somber grip.

Branch watched the once affectionate girl who now seemed impenetrable to his feelings.

“What was all this for?” Branch mumbled coldly. Poppy's view snapped up like the crack of whip.

“W-what?”

“All of this...” Branch grimaced. “The sunset, the rain, the glitter fields. What was it all for?”

Poppy shook her head. She hadn't thought of an explanation. Poppy looked into the boy's honest face—his eyes lost and longing for a reason that could bring him some form of comfort.

“You were miserable” she stated as if the answer was clear. “You were a patient and I was a nurse. I did it because you were alone and needed help. You were sad and I wanted to help you find your happiness...” Branch tilted his head and scoffed with frustration.

“So this was all some kind of twisted experiment?” Branch growled, unsatisfied with her reasoning. “To test out your hug therapy and see if you could home-grow a rainbow?”

Poppy's lips pulled hard, and her muscles shook under the strain. In the pit of his soul, despair slowly brewed into insult.  The audacity that this had been all a perverted game to her.  The boy snapped. Branch threw his gesturing arms wildly into the air.

“Well—job well done, Poppy! See this?” Branch pointed to his face and grinned sarcastically “I'm happy! Shit--I can even dance and hold a job! Your coworkers will be _so_ proud!” Poppy clenched her teeth at the boy's mocking attitude.

“That's not what I meant.” she grumbled. But Branch wasn't finished expressing himself yet.

“Oh sure it is!” He snarled. “This has been some fucking whimsical research project for you.”

“That's not what I wanted!” Poppy hollered back. “I didn't mean for it to go this way!”

“How the hell did you think it was going to go?!” Branch screamed. “LOOK at you! All the glow, the giggles, the rainbow magic?! How did you think it was even possible for me to NOT fall in love with you?!” Branch turned his head and plump drops squeezed past his defenses. Normally, Poppy would cave at the sight of a breakdown, but her pride was still inflamed by his tactless accusations.

“You have no idea what I'm going through!” Branch glanced back to the girl, still angry but listening.

“I have responsibilities! I have rules and expectations in my life that I don't get a say in! Chef wouldn't even--”

“Chef?!” Branch interrupted, glancing back, surprised. “What does your aunt have to do with...”

Poppy buttoned her lips tight, skin burning.

Branch inched closer, the hairs on his neck ruffled. The boy's lids narrowed in suspicion and lightning flashed over his gaze.

“Is that what this is really about? Your family? Your legacy?! They're high expectations?!” Sparks raged through Branch's blood when Poppy gave no response.

“You?” He poked and prodded at the girl—goading for a reaction. “The artist?! The happy dreamer?! You really give a shit what your family thinks?!”

“YES!” Poppy screamed. Branch's flapping mouth snapped shut.

“You were RIGHT!” She cried out. “Life isn't all cupcakes and rainbows!” Poppy sniffed and sobbed. “I thought I could help you! I thought I could make your world better but I was WRONG!”

Branch watched the crying girl, immune to her anguish.

“They are my family...” she sighed and shook her head hopelessly. Pink, floppy curls covered her eyes.

“You wouldn't understand.”

The boy stepped back, crest fallen and clearly pained by her statement. Branch touched his chin to his chest and Poppy immediately realized the depth of the cut she inflicted.

“No.” Branch grumbled, his words void of the warmth Poppy had come to love about him. “I suppose I wouldn't.”

With a sense of immeasurable defeat, Branch turned from the girl and began to walk away.

Poppy instinctively seized the boy's arm—halting him in his tracks.

“I'm sorry!” Poppy pleaded. “I'm sorry about everything! I didn't know I was going to screw things up so badly! I didn't think I would...”

Poppy's touch burned his skin and Branch whirled around to face her.

“I get it!” Branch snarled--his vicious tone dripping with poison. “You don't want some sickly, low achieving loose canon hanging around your doorstep!”

“It's not about that!” Poppy screeched, floored by the boy's shallow mindset.

“Sure it is!” Branch roared, darkness clouding over the blue of his iris. “Juvenile delinquent orphan, with anger issues-- _remember_?! Watched his Grandma get killed and did NOTHING to stop it! You'd have a tough time explaining that one at family functions!”

“I never wanted to hurt you!” The girl sobbed, covering her make-up smeared face. “I didn't want this! I didn't mean for any of this!” The serrated edges of Poppy's breaking heart ripped through her body.

 “Well Princess, this pity train ride is over and the magic stops now!” Branch loomed threateningly close. “I may be broken, Poppy, but you can't fix me! Nobody can! Go live your cupcake and rainbow life! Make your family proud!”

Branch's fists balled tight against his sides, and his teeth were clenched so hard, the sharp, stabbing sensation shot down his neck in waves. The only sound was winded panting, raspy and painful.

“Branch...”

Everything Branch had thought was real: his feelings, her feeling, who she was and who he thought he could finally be—it was all coming down in merciless flames. With fire and tears in his eyes, Branch was done.

“Fuck you!”

His words tore her heart wide open. Memories of smiles, laughter, and color spilled openly and drained her inner rainbow. Branch stepped closer.  He glowered into her frightened eyes. His face was a wretched and angry storm, and his ebony orbs flared with rage and torment. The blue was gone.

“Get out of my hell, Poppy...” he growled. “You're not welcome anymore.”

Broken, Poppy stumbled backward in the spinning lights. Shaking her head warily from side to side-- not knowing what to think... no idea what to do.  Her instincts decided for her. Poppy ran.

The girl's shrinking silhouette disappearing into the darkness triggered a switch deep inside him.  Horror instantly rose into Branch's chest.

_Fuck!_

“Wait! Poppy!” Branch tried to sputter, but his throat locked out his voice. 

_Don't loose her!_

He desperately called out again.

“Please!” But only tight whimpers waved past the boy's lips.

Panic was crushing down on him. His legs popped and wobbled as Branch scrambled toward the end of the stage. Heaving ribs were squeezing--tortuous and unrelenting around his lungs.

“I'M SORRY!” he screamed.

The last thread of his newly found happiness snapped with the echoing ' _bang'_ of a slamming door. Poppy was gone. Branch's knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground.

The theater air turned cold. Sobs lingered in the air as the brilliant shades of starlight faded to gray.

Within moments, Guy was at his side with his arm around Branch, unsure of what to say.

Branch's hands clawed into his black hair, pushing at the mounting and maddening pressure in his head as darkness oozed back into his mind. Bitter. Consuming.

_Oh my god! What have I done?!_

 


	15. I'm Sorry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Irregular pulses of light illuminated the pink walls, facets of furniture, and frozen faces of stuffed animals that cluttered the bookshelf. Holding tight to her kitty ball, Poppy zoned into her mind as she watched the most adorable creatures imaginable sing and dance their way into her breaking heart. Their sweet, carefree nature was always the perfect escape and like all cherished fairy tales, there was sure to be a happy ending. Every story should have a happy ending. Right?

Between the beats of music, Poppy perceived the soft sound of muffled knocking at her bedroom door. She didn't respond. However, Poppy quickly found that her decision made little difference because the hinges creaked a few seconds later.

Peppy quietly entered, arms clasped behind his back. He meandered casually through the room, admiring her sparkly trinkets and brightly colored adornments, as if his presence in the space had nothing to do with her. Peppy's sight was eventually drawn to the animated video playing on the television and he leaned against the chest of drawers to watch. After a few minutes, his concerned eyes rolled to his daughter.

“Trolls again, honey?” Poppy shrugged listlessly.

“It makes me happy.” She replied, still staring blankly at the screen. “I could use a little happy.”

Peppy pushed himself away from the dresser and took a seat next to Poppy at the edge of the bed. The old man sighed with content as he eased into the cushiony comfort, the mattress squeaking under considerable compression.

Gently, Peppy touched his daughter's shoulder, coaxing her to meet his eyes.

“You don't look happy,” His voice sad with worry.

The corner or Poppy's eyes pinched, and the burning resurfaced. Wet drops squeezed from every corner—much to the girl's flustered dismay. Wasn't this exactly what she was trying to avoid? Poppy released a hopeless sob and threw her hands to her face in attempt to mask humiliation.

Lovingly, Peppy stroked smooth his beloved daughter's pink locks. His mouth stiffened and he shook his head sympathetically.

“I fear this situation may require _more_ than Trolls.”

Poppy peaked at her father from between splayed fingers and caught sight of that familiar, optimistic grin. Peppy eased Poppy's hands back to her lap, exposing her internal anguish. Without judgment, Peppy removed his trusty handkerchief from his pocket and gingerly folded it over in his hand. Tenderly, the aged mad dabbed the fabric to his daughter's cheek--absorbing the streaks of liquid sorrow.

The outline of a simple golden crown embroidered in the corner snagged the girl's attention and tugged at her heartstrings. Poppy could trace that handkerchief back to the tears of her childhood. It had been a birthday gift from her and he carried it with him always. Peppy had told her that it reminded him of endless hours spent in make-believe play when, together, they ruled a magical kingdom of cupcakes and rainbows. He was the great and kind King Peppy and Poppy, of course, was his princess.

“There is a carton of strawberry ice cream in the freezer.” Her father's warm tone swiftly returned the girl to the present. “Care to join me?” Poppy broke into sniffling giggles and rubbed away the remaining dampness from her face. She nodded in grateful appreciation.

“I'd like that.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pink-haired girl sat on the kitchen stool in cotton pajamas. Her bare feet dangled and swung freely back and forth, tapping against the island and showing off her chipping rose-tinted toe polish. But the state of her girly maintenance was the least of Poppy's concerns at this point. Bite by bite, the girl devoured the sweet, cool cream, savoring the frozen strawberry chunks as they melted to mush on her tongue. Peppy watched with a kind smile. He had finished his ice cream nearly twenty minutes ago, when Poppy was still on her second bowl. His empty dish still sat in front of him. The man was seated next to his daughter with folded burly hands, waiting patiently for the moment when Poppy felt comfortable enough to open up. At last, half way through her third bowl, Poppy's insatiable need for sugar intake had fizzled to mindlessly swirling her spoon through the melted puddle that was accumulating at the bottom of her bowl. Poppy erratically flickered her amber eyes between her father's gaze and her unfinished indulgence. Peppy took this as the sign that she was ready.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Peppy offered, rotating his empty bowl between his fingers.

Poppy was somewhat relieved that her father had started talking first because she certainly wouldn't know where to start. The girl nodded shyly.

“Is this about a boy?”

Poppy nodded . Peppy bobbed his chin rhythmically with his daughter's responses, encouraging her participation in the conversation.

“It is it about _thee_ boy?” Her father probed. “Your new friend?”

Poppy shrugged but a fervent crimson blush overran her freckled face. Peppy could read his daughter like a kindergarten picture book. The man cocked a brow quizzically and grinned.

“ _More_ than a friend, then,” he chuckled.

“H-he said...” Poppy muttered softly. “He said he loves me.”

“Oh...” Peppy's brown eyes sparkled wide. “Oh my...” What an exciting conversation this was turning out to be. But the tenuous sting of guilt gnawed the girl's chest. Poppy looked away from her father and stared at the bowl of pink glop as though were a fine piece of sculpture. Her performance was an obvious and pitiful act of avoidance. Peppy quickly grew concerned over his daughter's reaction.

“What happened, Poppy?”

The girl pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed, trying to mitigate the building pressure.

“I'm so ashamed,” she whimpered. Though he required more information, Peppy waited patiently in silence knowing his daughter would provide it at her own pace. Poppy's raspy breaths rattled the air and her forehead crinkled with contempt.

“I lied to him, Dad.” Poppy whispered, “I told Branch I didn't care about him.”

Peppy's orbs widened, momentarily bewildered by such an uncharacteristic confession. Poppy closed her lids, ready to accept any deserved judgment her father passed. But Peppy's surprise was fleeting and he leaned back in his stool and stroked his stubbled chin thoughtfully.

“You must have felt it you had no alternative.”

Poppy nodded.

“Telling him the truth would have only made it worse,” she replied as if reading from a textbook. Poppy must have repeated that line a hundred times tonight, trying to convince herself that her choice was justified.

“It would have been cruel to leave him with hope,” she managed to squeak out.

Irritated with herself, Poppy flicked a stray fuchsia-tinted curl out of her face and hurriedly shoved a large bite of melting mush into her mouth. Unmoved by her frustration, Peppy pressed on.

“And what made you believe that you had to leave him behind in the first place?” Poppy's amber eyes tightened and her jaw clenched like a vise.

“Chef called me the other night.” she growled quietly. Peppy's face fell with her reply. There was no need for Poppy to elaborate. He could imagine the entire conversation in his head without his daughter saying a word.

“I see.” Peppy uttered, understanding the full gravity of Poppy's statement.

The girl nodded wearily. Poppy thought she had finally found the right path in her life, and, as a bonus, an amazing and charming boy had entered her world and made it shimmer in a way she had no idea was possible. Now, because of her stupid actions, everything had suddenly been flipped upside down and inside out. The shimmer was gone and as hard as she searched, Poppy could not find her rainbow. She had never felt so lost.

Peppy gazed mournfully at the shell of his shattered daughter. The view pained him to no end. No. He wasn't going to stand for it. Peppy's bushy, dark brows pushed down over his steely glare and he frowned with momentous disapproval.

“That bitch!”

Poppy sputtered a laugh, more out of shock than amusement.

“What?! She gasped.

“Sweetheart,” he said sternly. “I'm only going to tell you this once, though I'm now certain that I should have told you years ago.”

Peppy placed his large hands firmly on his daughter's shoulders and locked her eyes. For once in her life, Poppy had no idea what was going to come out of her father's mouth.

“Screw it all.” Poppy's jaw hit the floor.

“W....W-what?” Peppy straightened himself in his stool, stressing the seriousness of what he was telling his daughter.

“To hell with the job...to hell with other people's expectations...and to hell with Chef! She can lead her life as she pleases but I'll be _damned_ if she's going to tell you how to live yours!” Peppy growled. “This is your life, Poppy. This is your heart. And you deserve to chase your dreams without boundaries.  If you want to sing for dollars on the street corner in New Orleans...If you want to relocate to Gansu, China so you can save the giant Pandas... If you want to move into the basement and do nothing but paint portraits of puppies for the next 50 years...”

Peppy leaned in close to his daughter and squeezed her shoulders with all the conviction he possessed.

“If that is what makes you happy...” said Peppy “I want you to do it.”

Poppy stared wide eyed. The foreign idea of such freedom that could tickle the furthest edges of impracticality was slowly soaking in to the realm of endless possibilities. All possibilities...except one.

“And Branch?” Poppy whispered, the ache of her guilty heart throbbed mercilessly, bleeding and in dire need for resolution. Peppy's warm smile was like the light of dawn.

“Does he make you happy?” Peppy asked. Poppy's pout began to quiver beyond her control and she nodded.

“Yes.”

Peppy sighed.

“Then you'd better do what it takes to make him a part of that dream as well.”

Poppy nibbled anxiously at the corner of her lower lip.

Branch, she had to talk to Branch.

But in a blink, icy doubt re-invaded her thoughts and snaked it's way through her veins. She looked at her father in desperation.

“But...what if...”

Poppy started to panic as melancholy thoughts shivered in her core.

“What if he can't forgive me?” She choked. “What if he hates me?!” Her father shook his head confidently and reached out to touch his daughter's sweet face.

“If he truly loves you, Poppy” he reassured, stroking the frightened cheek of his most beloved treasure.“I do not believe that will be the case.”

Poppy's head dropped, overcome with a confusing mixture of shame, relief and helplessness. Drops dribbled like heavy beads of spring dew.  Poppy fell into her father's loving arms and he held her close. After her reserve of cleansing tears was drained dry, Poppy drew in a renewing breath and warm flicker of hope began to spread.

“Come on,” Peppy groaned as he pulled himself up from the hard stool. “Lets get you to bed.”

They walked down the hall toward the bedrooms, Peppy's arm around his daughter.

“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked.

The corner or Poppy's mouth pulled into a half smile.

“I think I'll just veg around the house for awhile, if you don't mind. Ponder a few things over.”

“You're not going to see... _him_?” Peppy teased playfully, nudging her with his sizable elbow as they strolled. Poppy's spirit deflated slightly and her stomach twitched nervously in her overly stuffed abdomen.

“Our fight was terrible.” Poppy recalled the heated exchange and shuddered. “I cut him pretty deep, Dad. I've got the next few days off and I think we could both use some time to let the dust settle.”

Peppy tilted his head thoughtfully, considering her decision, then nodded.

“Whatever you feel is best, my dear.”

Poppy nodded in return and they continued down the carpeted corridor. But as Poppy opened the door to her bedroom, a random thought popped into her mind. 

“Oh, have you seen my phone, Dad?” Poppy asked, “I can't find it.” The deep wrinkles of Peppy's forehead compressed. He ran his wide, round fingers over his regal, gray-streaked mustache as he intently tried to recall the last time had seen the sparkly device.

“Did you try calling it?” Poppy shrugged.

“I wanted to, but I sorta turned the ringer off and now I can't find it.” Peppy chuckled.

“Well, I'll keep an eye out for it, honey.  I'm sure it will show up soon.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” After snapping on the light, Poppy took a step into her bedroom, then paused. In a blink, she whipped back to her father and swung her grateful arms around the man she cared for so dearly—nearly knocking the wind out of him in the process.

“I love you so much!” Poppy squeaked, squeezing as hard as she was able. Peppy closed his warm eyes and returned the embrace.

“I love you too, my Poppy girl.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Branch laid in bed, tired and achy from his earlier melt down. His eyes were itching from the lack of tears that ran dry hours ago, but the internal self loathing had no end in sight.

How does someone fail at being Poppy Patel's friend? You just have to fucking show up! Hell-- if you didn't show up, she'd organize a search party within the hour.

_Shut up, Branch!  She never even wanted to be your friend.  Why the hell would she?_

Branch's head was throbbing and his face red and blotchy.  He was exhausted in every way possible.

All of the hard work she had put into helping him, and it blew up in her lovely glitter-covered face.  Poppy had tried to be honest with him and he crushed her like a flower into the fucking ground. Branch was like bitter venom to Poppy's sweet nectar, and he wasn't going to poison her any longer.

A renewed stream of glistening droplets gently tumbled down.

“You're a worthless, failure... and you don't deserve this life,” Branch whimpered into the darkness.

With glistening orbs, Branch looked about his room. His well worn clothes hung organized in the closet. Wooden shelves on the far wall were filled with possessions and collections. A sheet of glass caught the reflection of the moonlight that leaked through the nearby window. It was a cherished picture of a small, raven-haired child at his birthday party-- smiling and laughing on the lap of a gentle and beloved, gray-haired woman. His parents were cuddling into the frame on either side—all oblivious of the tragedy that would soon come. A tragedy that would enter his world and never leave... never let him rest.

Branch winced. Air stung like acid in his lungs. The demons that screamed and scratched within his skull were more ravenous than ever. He had tried to sleep, but Poppy's face remained clear and unwavering--branded in his mind's eye. The wrenching look of heartbreak in her delicate features twisted and ripped in the rapture of his words. And when he grabbed for her, Poppy combusted from his touch and the flames spread over her skin until her entire body was engulfed in a churning inferno. He could only scream as her charred form crumbled into dust...leaving nothing but ash on his fingertips. The vicious images replayed each time Branch tried to close his eyes. It was torture.

How much longer would this all last? If he stopped treatments, the agony could continue for weeks or months. Suddenly, the enveloping shadow lifted.

He knew a place. The low lit bridge arched 40 feet above the Missouri. Oblivious rushing vehicles whizzed several meters below the pedestrian walk. The structure spanned a channelized section of river and the powerful undercurrent was more than reliable for what he needed.

Branch slowly inhaled the cool air of his room and released it softly blowing the pain from his mind.  At last he felt calm.

Grabbing his cell from the bedside table, he scrolled through his contacts.  After finding his destination, Branch's fingers briskly danced over the buttons before pressing send. He let the phone slip from his hand and it fell to the floor with a muffled clatter.

Branch closed his sky blue eyes and sighed once more.

_I'm done._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stuffed down the side of the leather couch laid a phone plastered in pink sticky gems that were unable to glimmer in the darkness.

 

A single text silently registered.

 

New Message Received

Sender: Branch

“ _I'm sorry.”_

 

 


	16. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much to R3dotZero who provided her expert and invaluable editing services for this chapter.

Her playful feet lightly splashed through fresh, clean puddles as Poppy weaved between the cars of the parking lot. Increasingly wet socks squished under her toes with every giggling step. With a mighty stomp, another large burst of pooled water exploded under her foot. Poppy continued on her playful path, but just before reaching the building's canopy, she stopped.

She threw back her head, letting the gentle pitter-patter kiss her eyelids. How she loved these stormy days; the smell of wet grass infused in every drop, the thunder that shook in her chest, and the wind the twisted in the trees. All of this raw energy fueled her spirit like nothing else. The desire to keep herself planted in the delicate downpour was overwhelming, but she had bigger plans that far outweighed it. Three days were up, and it was time to fix what she had broken...and hope for forgiveness that she did not deserve.

Poppy bravely entered the building. The damp rubber of her shoes squeaked against smooth linoleum as she scooted them down the empty hallway. With a quick whip of her wrist, Poppy kicked the water beads from her florescent pink jacket and threw it into the locker. After rubbing the rest of the squeak out of her soles, she made her way to the time clock and punched in.

“It's going to be a good day. I just know it!” Poppy sang to herself.

The girl puffed out her chest and marched through the hall toward the main unit while pulling her free-flowing curls into a loose ponytail.

But when her hand reached for the door knob, she hesitated. Her arching eye brows knit together as she stared at her trembling fingers, hovering just above the silver orb.

“Please let it be a good day,” she whispered before swallowing her nerves and opening the door.

The unit was already buzzing and beeping in preparation for the next round. Poppy navigated through the chaos toward the nursing station, dodging staff as they ran to fetch cannulation packs and syringes for the expected patients. Reaching her destination, she rubbed her face and groaned. How she wished she had one more day off. She had heard two techs had just called in sick and the blaring alarms were already pounding their way to a headache.

Poppy leaned over the desk and scanned the day's shift assignments. She grabbed a pencil from the cup and started scratching down the patient names that would be in her care today. It only took a few moments to realize that something was different. She squinted suspiciously, scrutinizing the paper in front of her. Her brow furrowed when she noticed there was something missing. Someone was missing. The assignment slot next to station 18, 3rd shift, was empty.

_Branch._

“Smidge?” Her mouth was suddenly dry and tacky. To her dismay, Cathy was too preoccupied with assembling lab bags to hear her.

“W-where's Branch?” Poppy tried again, but, still, her strangled calls went unnoticed.

The girl's heart raced, and she frantically flipped the booklet to the master patient manifest. Her hand shook, touching each name on the list till she came to the one she had been searching for.

_Oh god._

The tips of her fingers hovered over the black letters of his name. It had been defiled with a strong, red slash mark through the center. It was a single line that conclusively canceled his existence to the dialysis unit.

“S-Smid-ge?!” Poppy's voice cracked.

After a few more moments, Cathy finished labeling the specimen tubes and was at her side, peering at the paper.

“Hmmm?”

“What?  W-where...” Poppy gestured--tapping the paper frantically with her fingertip. “Branch?” Cathy's brow furrowed at the line of nonsensical questioning.

“He's not--W-why is he off the schedule?!” She was doing her best to not scream, but the impulse was quickly becoming too powerful to contain. Unknown possibilities were swarming like hungry flies, subconsciously obscuring one dominant suspicion that Poppy wasn't ready to see.

Cathy cocked her face sympathetically, but slowly shook her head.

“I can't tell you that, Poppy. It's privileged.”

Cathy started back toward the lab table, but Poppy grabbed hold of her arm. Her whole body was trembling like a dry leaf, still clinging to its branch in the wind, tittering on its fragile hold and ready to give loose.

“Y-you don't underst—” Her voice was moving in and out of her ability to control. “I-I...I have to... Oh god...”

Poppy tried to hang on, wavering uncoordinatedly on her feet. The overly noisy room was growing hot, and the air around her ran thin. A concerned Satin approached and muttered something--to which Cathy's response was along the line of, “Mind your own damn business, and get back to work.” As Satin retreated, Poppy caught the flash of annoyance in her coworker's face and snapped.

“Dammit, Smidge—Please?!” Poppy screeched. “What happened?!”

Cathy quickly shushed the girl. Darting her eyes around the room, she met the uncomfortable stares of patients and staff alike. She then snatched her arm and dragged an emotional Poppy to the office, quickly closing the door behind them.

Poppy was free, she stumbled to the nearest sturdy object and held on. It was like trying to find balance in a water globe someone was shaking to make it snow. She clutched to the desk edge for support. Her lungs tidaled fiercely, but seemed unable to take in the oxygen they were screaming for. It was as if a wet blanket were wrapped over her head, heavy and suffocating.

“You need sit down,” Cathy ordered, but her voice sounded muddled and distant to the girl's ears.

Adrenaline fueled anxiety, launched rational thought to the back seat, and only one concern was pounding in the forefront:

_I have to get to Branch._

“I can't--I-I need to ...”

Poppy started to stagger toward the door, but Cathy grabbed her, preventing her from fleeing the situation.

She squirmed, trying her best to pull away from the ensnarement. Her fingers brushed the door but were unable to reach the knob.

“Let me go!” She erupted into broken sobs. “I-I n-need to find Branch! I-I have to T-TELL him...!”

“He's NOT there, Poppy!” Cathy growled, her locked arms jerking as she held fast to Poppy's struggling body. “He won't be coming back!”

An icy shock-wave of horror tore through the girl’s thoughts. Her body ran cold and limp, giving Cathy the chance she needed to shove her fellow nurse’s whiny ass into a chair.

“I refuse to let you go into hysterics while you're on the clock, Poppy!” Cathy snapped, crossing her arms furiously. “You can melt down on your own time!”

The room around Poppy was off-kilter. All objects tilting...leaning unnaturally, and colors were taking on fuzzy shades of pink. The girl began to feel light headed—the skin tingling around her lips.

When Poppy's face paled to a chalky ash hue, Cathy became more concerned. She leaned down and patted the recovering nurse gently on the cheek.

“Poppy? Poppy, can you hear me? You need to focus.”

A foul taste was lunging up the girl's throat. Her whimpering breaths were raspy and color drained from her cheeks. She looked up at her friend, pleading through glassy eyes. The desire for truth over-shadowed the looming dread that was consuming her. She needed to know.

“Please...” Poppy sobbed softly. “Where is he? Where is Branch?”

Cathy studied the girl's expression. Her sad eyes were lost...pitiful. After a reluctant sigh, she leaned close and placed her hands tenderly on Poppy's shoulders.

“Poppy...” she whispered delicately in the girl's ear, “...he got the call.”

The girl's brain fumbled, pushing through the panicky fog.

“W…what?”

Cathy pulled away to meet Poppy's gaze. She could see her young friend was still floundering in the quicksand of her own consciousness, so she squeezed Poppy's shoulders and grinned.

“Branch got the call, Poppy.” Cathy repeated slowly, her smile widening. “He's in Des Moines right now...he's getting a kidney.”

Poppy's dazed orbs remained wide, darting between Cathy's left and right eyes, confused. Tiny sparks of clarity began to flicker randomly in the darkness, and her breath hitched. Words and thoughts in her spiraling mind started to click and snap together as she strained to process. Then, with a final click, the sparks ignited into blast of blinding realization that nearly knocked Poppy off her chair.

“He... Oh my GOD!” Poppy exploded with a yelp. Jumping to her feet, she seized her friend around the waist--squeezing with all her strength and lifting her clear from the floor. “OH MY GOD!!!”

Cathy groaned and puffed a few invading pink hairs out of her mouth. Her annoyance was beyond measure.

“You get _way_ too attached to the patients, Poppy...” she grumbled.

Poppy bounced between cries and giggles while drops of joyful relief bubbled and drained from her auburn eyes. Staff walking past the office peaked through the window worryingly at the commotion, but Poppy didn't care.

Branch… Branch was getting a kidney.

 


	17. Things Are Going To Be Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AT LAST!!! Sorry if this is a little rough, it will be re-edited at a later date. Thank you to everyone who came along with me on this journey. Thank you for your patience, kindness, and unwavering support. I never planned on writing a story--certainly not one of this magnitude! Special thanks go out to my friends for holding my hand over these past few months when I was being a whiny bitch about writers block. Thank you to Duskblue for her creative and valuable insight. And I wish to express the highest appreciation to my friend Kino, whose endless passion and fan-girling continued to provide me with motivation when I found myself running on empty. I dedicate this last chapter to her. Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this! I love you all!  
> Please feel free to share any final thoughts or questions you may have! Catch ya on Tumblr!

It had been over two months since that day.  Poppy had heard through the grapevine that there were no post surgical complications and Branch's body was accepting the transplant.

Though she still had 10 minutes left of her shift, Poppy found she lacked the energy or motivation to do anything “extra” today. This has been a regular occurrence for the past several weeks. Instead of faking her usual enthusiasm, she sat at the nurses station, spinning her pink bedazzled phone on the desk as her mind wondered elsewhere.

_I wonder if he's back in town..._

_I wonder if he's eating chocolate ice cream..._

_I wonder if..._

_...he thinks of me._

Suddenly a hand touched her shoulder and Poppy yelped. Spinning around, she found Cathy standing at her side, apparently a little startled herself from the girl's explosive reaction.

“Wow- -chill-out, Poppy!” Cathy's hands where held in the air defensively. “You weren't answering me.”

“Oh? Oh-sorry, Smidge,” She flushed. “I was just...thinking.” Poppy picked up her phone and quickly stuffed it into the pocket of her scrubs. “Umm, what did you need?” Smidge sat in the chair beside her coworker, an uncommon softness in her eyes.

“I wanted to know how you were doing.” After hasty recovery from the surprise, Poppy faked a smile—something she had been practicing quite often over the last couple months.

“Doing?” Poppy asked, as if she had no idea what Cathy was referring to. “Fine—I'm doing fine.  Just dandy.  Thanks for asking...” Poppy looked down at the desk, searching for a task she could pretend she had been working on before the interruption. However, Cathy wasn't buying it and her brow furrowed.

“Bullshit!” She snapped. “What's bothering you, Poppy?”

“Nothing...” the girl groaned, rubbing her temples. “I'm just--...it's nothing.”

Though personal topics were usually of little concern to Cathy, she was feeling unusually persistent today and her eyes remained locked on the girl until she got her answers. Poppy stared blankly at the surface in front of her for several agonizing seconds. Finally, her resolve gave way. Poppy closed her eyes, and a frown twitched at the corner of her lips.  Cathy watched her friend thoughtfully.

“He's not here,” Poppy admitted softly. “He's not coming because he doesn't need us any more. I didn't think this would bother me...” Poppy winced and threw her head back.

“Gah!!  That sounds horrible to say!” Poppy inhaled deeply, trying her best to ignore the aching emptiness inside.

“I'm happy he got a kidney and everything—I really am! But …” Poppy's chin dropped sadly and her shoulders sank with the weight of her thoughts.

“I miss him, Smidge.” the girl sighed. “I just miss him.”

Poppy felt a hand press against her shirt and begin to rub her back tenderly.

“You really need to stay professional about this, Poppy.” Cathy soothed, attempting to comfort her friend. “Try to remember that this is a _good_ thing. He's moved on from this place... he's moved on from us.”

“I know and I'm trying,” Poppy sniffed. “I-I think it's going to take some more time.”

Two strong arms slid over her shoulders and pulled her back into a crushing hug.  Poppy couldn't breath, but she didn't really care.  She needed some hug time right now. After too short of a time, Cathy released her attentive attachment and gave a playful shove to Poppy's shoulder.

“Well, enough of this mushy crap!” Cathy snorted, shaking off the warm fuzzies. “I came to tell you that on my way in, I noticed that something was left on your car.”

“On my car?” Poppy asked, swiping her phone to check the time “What is it?”

There was no response. Poppy looked up but Cathy was gone.

“Shoot,” she grumbled to herself. “I hope it's not another parking ticket...” Poppy glanced at the digital display in her hand.

_3:56_

“Close enough,” Poppy mumbled to herself. After a snappy punch of the time clock, Poppy grabbed her coat from the locker and headed down the long, empty hallway toward the parking lot. Cathy stood in the door way of the break room silently watching the girl's departure and sipping her coffee with a sly grin.

From front door, Poppy could see her car and a flash of white paper caught her eye-- flapping energetically against the wind.

“Oh sugar cookies!”  Poppy's shoulders sank. She dug her fingers into her hair—scratching away the exhaustion that tickled over her scalp. “It IS a parking ticket!” she groaned. But as the girl stomped begrudgingly toward her vehicle, it was soon clear that her assumption had been wrong. A plain white envelope was tucked securely under the windshield wiper, her name scrolled neatly across its face.

Hesitantly, Poppy reached for the envelope. It was unsealed. Poppy opened the flap and pulled a simple, white paper free from its pocket. She unfolded the sheet and glanced curiously over the writing. Suddenly, her wide, amber eyes glittered and a trembling hand snapped to cover her shocked gasp . Unable to process them fast enough, emotions spilled over and rained wildly through her chest—threatening to paralyze her lungs under the mounting pressure as she read.

 

_My Rainbow_

 

_You walk, bouncing and vibrant--_

_blind to the adoration that follows you._

 

_The color that bursts from your gentle smile_

_chase away expanding_

_shadows of the inevitable_ _._

_And strawberry swirling flames feather_

_over my skin when you call my name._

_To simply say I love you falls bitterly short_

_to the sweet rapture than has snared me._

_You are my everything._

_You are my hope and happiness and light._

_But I am not the one to hold you on cold nights,_

_calming your shivers with a caressing touch._

_Mine are not the encircling arms you seek_

_when you're afraid, or the lips you relish_

_to sooth your churning desires._

Or _the face_ _you reach for in the early dawn._

_You look at me but not as I wish you could._

_And when a friend is all your golden eyes see,_

_I will achingly cherish the place I fill._

_Because simply possessing a shimmer of you,_

_has showered my world in glowing color,_

_that will last til the end of my time._

_But an internal storm is thick with demons_

_whispering promises that this too will soon end_

_If my time is unfairly stifled,_

_then let those final days be in your sweet company._

_And I pray the universe leaves you in my heart_

_as unfadable memories bright and pure._

_So, when my bed is cold_

_and empty shelves are veiled in webbing dust._

_When a choked “goodbye”_

_passes my lips to go unheard,_

_your boundless sunshine will remain unchanged_

_and continue to paint lost, gray hearts_

_in a brilliant sunset pallet._

_Just as it should be._

_Because, in this life, my rainbow..._

 

_...you were never meant to be mine._

 

Poppy closed her eyes and pressed the paper tightly against her—as silly as it seemed to try to hug the words themselves, she didn't care. It felt right. The only sound was the warm, autumn wind on her ears and raspy pants from her lungs—in hopes that a steady intake of air could contain the grateful droplets pushing and burning to release.

But Poppy nearly jumped free from her skin when the impassioned silence was shattered with the softest of voices.

“I owed you a poem.”

The girl turned around slowly, so afraid the sound had been only in her head. But there he was. No more than ten feet in front of her-- alive, and beautiful and...here.

His raven hair was shorter, soft and smooth. But it still kept it's untamed, wind-swept appearance. His jaw was clean shaven, his jeans were absent of their usual knee warn patches. Yet, wore that same dark blue, tattered hoodie.

“Branch...” she trailed, not realizing she has said that out loud.

Poppy tried hard to conceal the jitters in her smile, swallowing the nervous tingles that skittered over her skin like water bugs on the surface of a morning pond.

“Are you stalking me?” Poppy smirked, trying to contain the excited anticipation pulling at her from every direction. “Because I think that's a crime.”

Branch shrugged, his lip curling with amusement.

“Maybe a little.”

Poppy cleared her throat, forcing the thrillled buzzing back into her belly like vibrating kittens. Not sure on the purpose of his visit, she decided to take a more polite and professional route.

“Sooo...you got a transplant.” She started with a casual tone, but immediately slapped herself mentally of how stupid she must sound in stating the obvious.

The boy's affirmative grin came easily, pouring over his features like melted golden butter over fresh popcorn.

“They tell me it's going well.”

“That's good to know.” Poppy bubbled, nibbling enthusiastically at the corner of her lip. Oh-there were a _thousand_ questions she wanted to ask—all swirling and swarming like diving swallows in her mind--so chaotic she didn't know where to begin.

“You're drinking fine?” she asked . Branch nodded.

“As much as I like.”

“And...” Poppy licked her lips, there was no stopping the rambling questions at this point “...chocolate ice cream?” The boy smiled. It was pure and lovely and so full of life and happiness.

“It was the first thing I asked for when I woke up from surgery.” Branch chuckled. “But they made me wait a week.”

“Are you peeing?” Poppy blurted out, unable to contain her excitement. The boy snorted and ran his hand over his flushing face.

“Don't you ever stop acting like a nurse?” he groaned, unable to camouflage a shadow appreciation.

Poppy shrugged with her usual sweet grin.

“Can't really turn it off.”

Branch rolled his eyes, snickering.

“Yes, I'm peeing just fine.” The boy then crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest and worked himself into an nonthreatening scowl.

“But if you ask me about sexual function again,” Though Branch's frown was stern, he couldn't hide the blush blooming through his rounded cheeks. “This conversation is over and I'm hightailing it out of here!”

Poppy giggled and held her hands in the air as a symbol of truce. But, then her giddiness fizzled. There was one more pressing question dancing on the tip of her tongue. Poppy twisted her fingers awkwardly, trying to build the courage to ask.

“Can I see it?”...she asked timidly. “Can I see the scar?”

Branch tilted his left brow and considered the request. After a quick analysis, he didn't see the harm. So, with a reluctant sigh, he turned his back to the girl and lifted his shirt and hoodie.

It appeared he had gained a little weight since his surgery and a small layer of skin fluffed adorably around the edge of his jeans The scar was clearly defined on the sun-shielded skin of his back. Poppy stepped closer to get a better look. The dark crescent curved smoothly along his right flank. It was a symbol of a new start, a new life for Branch. The mark was quite beautiful in its own way. Like with a fascinating and emotionally provoking piece of art, Poppy's impulse was to touch it, but she knew it would probably be inappropriate to do so. Such a bold action might make him uncomfort--

_Screw it—I WANT TO TOUCH IT!_

Poppy lifted her hand and delicately traced the deep red line. It was obvious that Branch was not expecting tactile contact and his muscles stiffened under her fingertips. Not oblivious to his reaction, Poppy let her fingers fall and solemnly drew her hand back. She'd be lying if she said her ego wasn't a little bruised by his response.

Branch dropped his shirt and took a step away. The distance between them was thick with unanswered questions and the misery of past mistakes. But, still, he was here, and that fact was insurmountably valuable in itself. Maybe this was her chance to say all the things she had wanted to on that day. Maybe she could beg forgiveness for her own foolishness. Then again...maybe he was still angry. It had been months and maybe Branch didn't feel the same as he once did. Or, maybe...maybe this was just closure before they moved on with their lives...separately. Poppy tried earnestly to ignore the tormenting “maybe's”. It was like trying to squish down a pile of barbed thistles. But she knew one thing for certain. Poppy had to say something before this moment passed her by too.

“I thought I had lost you.” Poppy whispered. Branch tilted his head thoughtfully, captured by the girl's sincerity.

“Yeah, for a little while,” Branch shuddered recalling that night. “I thought I had lost me too...” The desperate venting in his mind had been a new and frightening low for him. Branch cleared his throat and swallowed thickly. Luckily, after a long, much needed night's sleep, he had felt a bit better. However, it was the phone call that really opened up a new outlook for him.

“But...you came back?” Poppy asked, the hope for a bright side transparent in her voice.

“Yeah, well,” Branch sighed weakly, scratching at the nape of his neck “I almost didn't.”

Poppy cocked her brow questionably and waited for the boy to elaborate. Branch looked to the ground and his entire body seemed to pull inward.

“I didn't know if...you know...” The corners of his eyes pinched to billowing the ache within his chest. “If you would want to see me again.”

“Oh.” Poppy lowered her eyes, a wave of shame poured through her. There was no need for him to elaborate. She had rerun their last encounter through mind a thousand times over the past couple of months. Every shattered expression on his face was burned into her consciousness. Without the confidence to raise her chin, Poppy glanced up at the boy through her thick lashes.

“So, what changed your mind?”

The edge of Branch's mouth formed into an tired smirk.

“You mean who?”

Perplexed, Poppy' blank eyes blinked, and she tilted her head questionably.

The boy puffed out a reluctant blast of air Lifting his arm, he turned and pointed to the far corner of the lot.

“Well, I didn't walk here...”

Poppy tracked the boy's line of site to a few rows away where she spotted two young men sitting in a parked silver mustang. Guy had his hand out the drivers-side window, flailing it dramatically and honking the horn in unison with his waves.

Poppy giggled and wiggled her fingers in return.

Creek sat coolly in the passenger seat and looked up from his phone long enough to blow a charismatic kiss in Poppy's direction. After which, his lavender eyes shifted to her companion,. He scoffed arrogantly when he met Branch's eyes then returned his focus to his phone. Without lifting his gaze from the screen, Creek slowly raised his arm and extended his middle finger.

Branch's grin dropped into to a fowl grimace.

“I still _really_ don't like that guy.” he grumbled. Poppy snorted.

“I'm sure you'll learn to get along.”

“He called me a “Daft Tosser” Poppy,” Branch growled .“What the Hell is a tosser?!”

Poppy scrunched up her shoulders but maintained her sunshine self.

“Maybe it's a term of endearment?” Poppy responded with a hopeful grin.

Still irritated, Branch threw up his hands.  
“It was immediately followed by “and that's why I owe you an ass kicking!” Branch complained, snarling in the direction of the car “I hardly think THAT qualifies.”

Poppy was snickering and snorting wildly at this point.

“So, you came under duress?” Poppy joked lightly, wiggling her shoulders in a teasing manor. Branch, still staring at the mustang, shrugged offhandedly.

“I guess you could say that.” he sighed. “Creek said I could delay my comeuppance if I came with them today.”

The laughing stopped and Poppy worried at her lip. She started to think one of her assumptions regarding his sudden appearance, had been correct. Maybe this was just closure—closure in which he was an unwilling participant. The idea left a fowl taste rising in her throat.

_Branch didn't want to be here._

Branch turned his eyes back to the girl. Her hair was an untamed hot pink mess. Most of her makeup had worn off from the day, but that damn glitter! She must stick that shit on with glue because it still sparkled like diamonds over her cheeks. She looked much like the last time he saw her, tired, nervous, fuchsia scrubs wrinkled and soiled from a long day's work. Just as he remembered her... and still just as beautiful. Branch blushed, a bit embarrassed.

“Also...” Branch's voice wavering “I wanted to talk to you..I wanted to tell you...”

Branch stopped. The last conversation between them that was branded in his mind had a chance to cool over the last couple months. But now, the teasing idea of a second chance was stoking the embers and ready to fire up. The voices in his head were screaming in alarm. Why the hell should he expect a different outcome this time around? The reality was terrifying.

Poppy stepped closer, but Branch flinched and, on instinct, countered her action to preserve the distance. Fearful sadness reflected in the blue ice of his gaze. The boy darted his eyes to the ground-- avoiding all connection with Poppy's.

His feeling were open and raw from the psychological lashes she had inflicted. Honestly, he _wanted_ to be near her. He wanted to hold her at sunset, dance in the rain, and twirl her through those endless glitter fields. But those were dreams of the past. Did she still hate him? What could possibly make him worthy of her friendship after his explosive reaction? Even if she did want to be friends, how could he even bare to be near her and find the strength to fight the constant bombarding desire to hold her..to kiss her. Maybe he should leave the ghosts of broken hearts lie where they fell. It was confusing and he felt so lost.

Poppy couldn't blame Branch for his fearful reaction. She had really done a number on his head and put his heart through the scrambler. Rebuilding trust was going to take time. But she had to start somewhere.

Poppy's voice started low...quiet, while hoping for the best that this move wouldn't backfire.

 _So don't be afraid to let them show_  
_Your true colors_  
_True colors are beautiful_

Branch closed his eyes—momentarily enveloped by the pain from when he had last heard the song.

 _And I see your true colors_ _  
_ _Shining through_

Her voice vibrated like a sparrow-- sweet, kind and clear. Slowly, Branch lifted his head to watch her. The melody shimmered with all the tenderness and purity that makes Poppy...well...”Poppy”.

 

_I see your true colors  
_

 

Branch stared wearily, searching Poppy's face, his crudely bandaged heart teetering on the edge of a drop-off, unsure what to think... what to believe. The boy's body was shifting slightly side to side, as he internally sifted through his insecurities. Delicately, Poppy grasped the boy's wrist, preventing Branch's restless nerves from triggering an impulsive retreat.

  
_And that's why I love you_

Fears that had been trapped in his features started to release one by one, making the slightest of spaces for a daring flicker of hope to spark. Branch inhaled a deep breath and with whispering apprehension, he joined in.

 _So don't be afraid to let them show_  
_Your true colors_  
_True colors are beautiful_

It was almost dreamlike-- as if they were playing out an epic scene straight from a children's movie. The surrealism of the moment was a bit strange and (quite honestly) a little cheesy.

  
_Like a rainbow_ _  
__Ooh ooh ooh like a rainbow_

The song ended with hands bound together and cheeks softly pressed. Branch tilted his head pushing the tip of his nose deeper into the pink blanket of hair--wafting through the strands til he reached her ear, nuzzling it gently. Poppy's closed her lids. His smell infused all senses and spread like warm bubbles through her body. How she had missed him.

“I'm sorry.” Branch whispered, screwing his closed eyes a little tighter. “I shouldn't have lost my temper at you. Taken it out on you. I was so stupid.”

Poppy frowned, at his last assumption, but wasn't prepared to stop his line of thought just yet.

“A-and I came back...just to let you know-- Holy Shit”! Branch screamed, eyes popping in a downward glare. “What is all over your hands?!”

“What?!” Poppy gasped, confused, head spinning left and right with no particular destination.

“I-Is that Blood?!! Branch screeched “From work?! Oh shit—is it from me?!” The boy instinctively pawed at the back of his shirt--attempting to stretch and pull it in such a way to determine the source.

Poppy's view darted to her hands and she instantly took notice of the bright red stained splatters randomly speckling her skin and nails. A raspberry sputtered off the end of her tongue and laughter followed in rolling waves.

“Calm down, bud—it's not blood!” Poppy assured through her giggles, holding her hands into the air for the boy to see. “It's paint!”

“P-paint?! Branch stuttered, still frantically checking his clothes for signs of bleeding. “You sure?”

Poppy nodded whole-heartedly.

“I'm sure. I set up a small studio in our basement so I can start practicing my art again.”

“Oh.” The panic instantly faded “That's great. I'm...I'm really happy for you.” But his smile was both genuine and hesitant because that information begged another question.

“Are you...ummm...” Branch felt as if he was grasping at fluttering feathers in a wind-storm trying to keep his restlessness hidden. “Are you... going back to art school?”

Poppy smiled and moved closer, sensing his worry and joined their hands. “No—at least I don't plan to. Not right now. I really do love being a nurse. I'm just happy to know that it's an option.”

Branch looked down at their entwined fingers. The heated energy within the laced connection began to dance over every nerve—lighting them up like fizzing sparklers. This surge was quickly followed by a flood of warmth billowing though his body just below the surface. It was wonderful. He cupped his other hand over the connection and squeezed it tighter. The onslaught of emotions made him feel out of control in a most glorious way.

“You're my rainbow...” Branch whispered, the blue of his eyes glimmering with the deepest love and sincerity.

Poppy bit her lip, nose sniffing and corners her eyes pinched in immeasurable happiness. How could she possibly counter that.

“A-and..and it's not just about the way you look!” Branch gawked. “I mean- you look beautiful too, but there's-there's more!”

Branch was on a roll now. The door was swung wide and words poured like dog vomit. You can see it coming, but there was no way in hell to stop it!

“It's the way you move, that joyful bounce as you walk.  The way you giggle freely when you're happy--not caring if anyone else laughs with you.  You radiate love to the people in your life—every friend, every patient, every stranger! They can feel it, Poppy! I can feel it! The colors in my world brighten and glow when you stand close to me.

His eyebrows winced as pain washed over his expression.

“...and I- I don't want to let it go.”

Poppy was trembling, lungs imploding under the crushing confession of the boy in front of her.

“Please...” Branch choked. He held Poppy's hand a little tighter and pulled it to his chest for strength. He inhaled another shaky breath.

“Poppy, Please. Take a chance on me. Just give me the opportunity to show you and I promise.  I...”

He met her eyes--sky blue saturated in serenity and desperation.

“I'm not going to fail you again.”

Poppy's brows knotted.

_Fail?_

The girl's breath was stolen by his words and horror ghosted in her already wide eyes .

Memories of them together flashed through her vision. He had exposed his heart, offered her his friendship, his love, his very life. And she harpooned him with a lie and left him to bleed out without a real reason.

_oh...._

Guilt swelled. Branch thought it had all been his fault, that there was something wrong with him and everything she did was somehow suitable to his worth. Poppy once told Branch that everyone deserves to be happy. But now, she realized, there are some people...who deserve it most.

“Branch...”

She swept the draping bangs away from the boy's blushing face and rested her palm against his cheek. The delicate meeting sent jolts firing through every synapse-- kicking off an exhilarating chain reaction that quivered in Branch's belly and fluffed the baby hairs on his neck.

“Branch, you were never a failure...” She whimpered. The shame was relentless--irritating every fiber of her small frame--straining and screeching like nails on a chalk board.

“I'm sorry. Oh god-- I'm so sorry about what I said!” Poppy sobbed, throwing her hand over her face in embarrassed disgrace. “I ...It's just my job--I love my job, ya know?” Poppy couldn't stop the tears from streaming down like rain drops on window glass.

“M-My aunt, my dad, I thought I had to keep them—I didn't think I had a choice!?” The girl's tightening throat was rapidly closing off her voice...she fought to keep going.

Poppy shook her frantically with the unrelenting force of her pounding heart. “But it was a mistake...I was wrong! I'm so sorry, Branch! I didn't want to...”

Poppy had to breath. She looked into his bewildered eyes. Branch was trying so hard to follow what she was saying. But there was no translator in the world capable of deciphering Poppy's hysteric ramblings. Her voice was almost gone, flopping and dying like a fish on the riverbank.

“I couldn't tell you that I needed... how much I wanted...” Poppy's blurring vision honed in on her primal intention. An internal a spring of lies and depravity had been twisting and tightening mercilessly beneath Poppy's ribs for months--creaking and straining in agony under the compounding tension. With her last gust of breath, the pin release was triggered.

Before Branch was able to react, Poppy snatched the boy by the back of the neck and pulled him in.

Poppy kissed Branch.

She kissed him good and long and full. She kissed him with all the devotion and love that was far too massive for her to possibly put into words. She kissed him out of sheer desperation-- as if this one explosive act could right all the wrongs she had done. Maybe it couldn't, but she was damn well going to give it a shot.

Branch froze, too petrified by his own shock. All respirations ceased with driving panic and his heart knocked around irregularly in his chest cavity like a dead body down a flight of stairs.

And then it was over. The warm wind could once again pass between them. Branch's eyes were closed, but he didn't remember closing them. Carefully, he opened his eyes. The look of bewilderment was almost comical.

“I'm....sorry?” The girl quietly squeaked— like a child who had been caught _after_ the entire box of Oreos had been consumed. (Afraid of the consequence but completely confident the prize had been well worth the crime.)

Branch snapped out of his cloud, eyes wide and frenzied.

“No, no! It was- Shit!” He panted, “I wasn't expecting that!” His face flushing darker then Poppy had ever seen it before, accentuating the sparkling blue disks.

The boy's breaths were quick. His appearance more anxious and disheveled than a minute before. Poppy giggled. 

“You're as flushed as a toilet.”

Branch's embarrassment relaxed a little as he took notice of a pair of cherry – toned cheeks of her own. He cupped her soft face in his hands, smoothing his thumb over her freckles. A thrilling shiver traveled down Poppy's spine and she drew in a sharp breath.

“You're looking a bit pink there yourself,” he said quietly. Poppy was trapped in a labyrinth of stirring emotions that blasted through her from his gentle touch, now lit in roaring flames from the recent kiss.

 “I-I'm always pink, silly” Poppy gasped, quickly loosing the ability to speak.

She met the pooling ice crystals . So deep. She couldn't come up for air. She didn't want to.

“Don't call me silly..” he whispered leaning closer, his eyes half lidded. Inch by inch, his heart preparing to plunge into the depth of the consuming fire between them.

“I-I like your scar,” Poppy managed to mumble, wavering in the foggy high. “C-can I take another look?” Branch chuckled

“You trying to get me to take off my shirt” Branch's voice low, rumbling quietly in his throat.

Poppy giggled and slipped her hand between the fabrics that coated the boy's torso.

“Yes.”

Branch paused and blinked to the girl's cheeky response. But, all honesty, he should have expected that. Snickering between his teeth, he pulled her tight against his body, the muscles of his arms flexing with passionate need and urgency. Branch slid his palm under the girls pink locks and cupped the back or her arching neck, gently drawing her in. Carefully, the boy positioned his thumb and angled her jaw for more inviting alignment.

“I think that can be arranged.” he whispered coolly, into her dividing lips. Trembling puffs of naive and anxious desire churned in their mingling breaths as the distance narrowed, her seductive lips calling to him like fresh honey—gleaming, sweet and enticing. Lashes closed and the primal magnetism drew them in--each tongue starving for a taste of the other.

“Hey Branch!” A boisterous voice called out. The startled couple jumped, ripping the other from their grasp.

Cathy was poking her head out the front door with a cocky grin.

“If you hurt her,” Cathy threatened, her voice cold and menacing “I will come to your house while you sleep and stick those needles under your toenails!”

Branch's jaw dropped--horrified. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and glanced at Poppy from the corner of his eye.  She was beaming. Guy's uncontrollable laughter could be heard echoing across the parking lot.

“Uhhhhh....Okay!” Branch hollered back nervously. “Uhh...Thanks! Thank you, Cathy!” The charge nurse grinned sweetly.

“Call me Smidge.” Then, without another word, she turned and walked back into the building.

“Why do all your friends want to hurt me?” Branch sighed, rubbing his face with a slightly discouraged expression.

Poppy giggled and poked the boy's stomach playfully.

“ _Our_ friends,” she corrected. Branch chuckled, shaking his head with reluctant acceptance.

“Our friends,” Branch admitted with a grin. He turned to gaze adoringly at the beautiful pink-haired girl, and she met his sight with a smile. It was an illuminating smile that shamed the sun and brought Branch's heart to its knees. And, right now, in this moment, this smile was for him.

Quietly, Branch reached for Poppy's hand and interweaving their fingers. He looked at the girl he cared most for in the world--searching her face for the courage to his strengthen his desperate heart. After long and steady inhale, Branch closed his eyes.

“I love you.” he breathed softly.

There was no response.

Branch's orbs snapped opened in reaction to the uneasy silence and quickly crinkled with concern. Suddenly, Poppy broke into a string of sobbing giggles--her golden eyes sparkling with glittery tears. Branch adoringly touched the girl's face with hopes that her reaction was more happy than sad. Poppy mirrored the action and the boy leaned into her hand. Smoothly, she traced over Branch's brow, past his pulsing temple, and along his quivering jawline. He was the most beautiful creature both inside and out. Poppy had her second chance and, this time, she was not going to blow it. The path was finally hers to choose.

“I love you too.” she whispered.

The intensity swirled between the two--enticing the girl's finger to steal a silky stroke over Branch's parted mouth. Poppy released an impatient gasp-- relishing the moist and tantalizing heat of his breath on her fingertips.

_Let's try this again._

Branch bit his lip with brutal anticipation as he leaned in and experimentally brushed the softness of her berry-glazed pout. Hit with a surge impassioned fever, all hesitation crumbled and Branch's lips crashed into their mark—closing around her lower lip. The electricity between the couple spiked at contact. Strawberry and chocolate mingled in the air as Branch eased deeply into her caressing lips that had yearned for this moment as desperately as his own. The pining ache of unfulfilled desire fizzled away, replaced with a fiercely unsurpassable passion that overflowed emotions and linked their spirits in a most profound way. The euphoric tingle of lover's bliss showered over the couple like spring rain, setting hearts a blaze and illuminating their skin with a strange and wonderful magic that glowed in the warm, afternoon sun. Branch smiled through the kiss.

 

 _Yeah.  Things were going to be different_.

 

 

The End.

 

 


End file.
